Reborn
by ZephyrTheBunny
Summary: David comes out of the closet, against his will. His friends aren't nearly as accepting as Kurt's were. Karofsky/Hummel, violence, redemption
1. Pahtay!

**I don't own Glee…if I did, it definitely would NOT be safe for public television…Maybe HBO…maybe…**

xoxoxo

"This party of yours is going to be Sweeet, dude." Azimio shoved the locker room door open roughly so that it banged against the wall behind it. Azimio was trying to get everyone's attention in the most obnoxious way possible…as usual. Karofsky trailed behind him, smiling at Azimio's diva-like attitude. Dave couldn't help feeling that Azimio was one of the worst, stereotypical caricatures of what it was to be a black American…kind of like that Mercedes chick. The only way Azimio could get any worse was if he walked around with watermelon and fried chicken. It didn't matter to him, though; Az was his best friend and had been since kindergarten. Ever since a certain, chubby, five-year-old had punched a first grader for calling a certain other kindergartner a fat, poopy, butt-face.

"Yo, listen up!" Azimio, keeping the attention he had just garnered from the football team, bellowed. "Karofsky and I are throwing a _killah_ pah-tay at his crib Friday night. All ya'll who ain't infected with the queer-mo" Azimio looked pointedly at each of the male Gleeks occupying the locker room, "are welcome to come. BYOB…bring yo' own b-ches…haHA."

Karofsky and Azimio high-fived each other before Dave took the floor. "Seriously, though, I've got a couple kegs lined up, curtesy of Joe-shmoe and Gabe." Most of the football team…and hockey team…definitely the Cheerios…and, indeed, a good portion of the school were familiar with David's two older, alumna McKinley athletics brothers. They happily supplied all of David's party's with enough booze to drunken a whale.

Cheers and various loud conversations filled the locker room. As David and Azimio made their way to their lockers, Az smiled up at him. "So, Courtney's going to be there, right? She still single?"

Courtney was David's cousin and, aside from Az, his closest friend. "Yes…and she better stay that way. Last thing I need is a fat-ass like you accidentally squashing her." Azimio shoved Karofsky harshly, but playfully, into his locker. Karofsky chuckled internally. Body checking definitely didn't hurt. Why did that queen make such a big deal out of it?

Dave grabbed his equipment bag out of his locker and watched, somewhat amused as Azimio did a little dance around the locker room trying to get a signal on his cellphone. "Damn T-Mobile! Dave. Lend me your phone, I need to call my mom's." David tossed his phone to Azimio, before pulling the last of his pads on.

As Azimio tried to argue with his mom in order to stay out late, Dave shoved his stuff back into his bag and into his locker. He followed after several of his "teammates," aka, people he put up with because he had no choice, leaving Azimio alone.

Azimio made it onto the football field about five minutes later, huffy and pissed. "Not only am I not hanging with you tonight, but now I'm grounded and have to come home straight after practice."

Karofsky openly laughed at him. It was the kind of friendship they had; unless the other was dying or in serious need of medical help, laughter was always the best medicine. "What'd you do now?"

"She got all pissy because I was arguing with her. Screw that crap, I'm seventeen and should be allowed to stay out however long I want, whether or not it's a school night." The two listened quietly while Coach Beiste rambled off some instructions about what drills they would be performing and in what order.

"That sucks dude. You put my phone back with my crap?" The two, along with the team, began jogging over to the tires for their first set of drills.

"What...? Oh, yeah."

xoxoxoxo

Azimio plopped down in his jeep and felt something sticking him in the butt cheek. He leaned over to pull the offending item out of his back pocket only to realize he had both his and David's phones there. "Damn, man." He flipped open his cell phone to call Dave before laughing at his own stupidity. "Aw, well. Not like he's got a girl or whatever, he can wait till the morning."

After Azimio got home and had dinner, he was bored. There was nothing on TV until South Park at eleven and, if he remembered correctly, they weren't doing new episodes at the moment. He pulled out Dave's phone, and started playing with it. It was a one of those Iphone 4s. Dave's dad was an attorney so Dave usually had the newest and best toys. He scrolled through Dave's music making judgments on each album…awesome…awesome…gay…retarded…awesome…never heard of it…she's hot…meh. After that he flipped through Dave's apps…some math game called KenKen (what a dork), an NFL game, a hockey game, a couple ESPN apps for keeping up to date on stats and scores, a doodle pad, a camera, IGun, a Predators game.

Something in Azimio's small brain clicked… _camera_? _Let's see what the shutter bug takes pictures of_. He tapped it open; one of Dave's little cousins skating on the pond behind his house, the hours of some store downtown, a picture of a weird looking cat with something captioned below it, a picture of his dad's cocker spaniel walking around with a dead bird in its mouth, Gleeks performing that gay-ass Britney Spears routine they did, a herd of deer in Dave's front yard (Dave lived in the sticks), someone covered in grape slushie, that Hummel he-she in the parking lot, another cat with a caption below it, Hummel dressed like some sort of fairy princess's wet dream, Hummel taking notes in class, a close up of Hummel performing with Glee, a picture of Hummel's yearbook picture (with an effin' heart drawn over it? Oh, Hellll no). Azimio started flipping through the pictures faster and faster: a total of twelve pictures of Hummel. All candid, all creepy. Azimio was pissed.


	2. Night Jogging

Azimio threw Dave's phone at him the next morning, not even looking at him. "Still sulking about getting grounded? Stop pissin' off your mom." Karofsky was half angry/half amused. Azimio kept walking without turning around. Dave was confused. Then it dawned on him; Az's dad must have ripped into him for mouthing off his mom. Theodore Adams did not lay into his son often, but when he did…

Dave stopped being pissed at Azimio for being moody.

xoxoxoxo

Sunday night…the most boring night of the week as far as Dave was concerned. The NFL game was over, there was no hockey game tonight, and for the past few days, no Az to hang out with. Az wasn't even talking to him. Dave acknowledged that his mouth worked faster than his brain and he often said really stupid stuff that he knew he shouldn't, but, for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what he had done to piss Azimio off. But Azimio was being pissy with everyone the past few days. Maybe Azimio was in a _lot_ of trouble at home. He hadn't even come to the party Friday.

So there Dave was; bored out of his wits and jogging on the school track field just to have something to do. It was around nine at night and he had been there a while: since the game ended actually. He was sweaty… _Screw you Hummel, I'm an athlete, what do you expect?_ And tired.

He saw a couple of guys in McKinley jackets walking across the field. It was dark out and he couldn't see faces yet. They were bundled up against the chilly January air. One had a baseball bat and one had a book bag. He had played night ball on the field with guys from the various teams over the years, but they were always prearranged. He didn't take kindly to not being invited.

He sat on the bleachers as they continued towards him. Throwing back his Gatorade in a long swig, he kept waiting for one of them to at least say "hi." Or even "yo" at this point. There were no spotlights on the track field…not like the football field or baseball diamond. How many people ran track at night? How often did track have night meets? That's why they were so close to him by the time he realized they all had ski masks on. He had just enough time to stand up and clench his fists before the bat hit him in the side of the head.


	3. Kurt

Dave didn't lose consciousness, but he had been hit hard enough that he couldn't see for a few minutes. Hours, it _felt_ like. One of the guys grabbed his arms and, practically wrenching them from the sockets pulled them behind his back. One of the others, there were four total, punched him straight in the face, hitting him directly in the mouth and nose. Dave instantly tasted blood running over his lips. The puncher kept on punching him, while the biggest continued to pinion his arms behind his back. Dave was strong; the idea of someone stronger than him terrified him. The unknown usually did.

Several more hits to the face and David couldn't even struggle any more. His attackers didn't care. One kneed him the groin for good measure. The big guy let David go and he collapsed into the fetal position. As if fate were trying to add insult to injury, he tripped on the bottom bleacher seat as he was going down.

Someone started grabbing at his letterman jacket. As they pulled it up and over his head, dragging most his shirt with it, David once again felt like they were pulling his arms from their sockets. _You can fuck with my face,_ Dave thought _but leave my arms alone, I need them to play hockey_. Once the jacket was off, they pulled his shirt off the rest of the way. _What…the…fuh?_ David made a half-assed attempt at pulling away, but got a swift kick in the jaw in response.

After his shirt was off, the big one, once again, pulled Dave's arms behind his back. One of the others had duct tape. Dave could feel his arms being duct taped together; round and round he could feel the duct tape encircling his wrists while accompanied by its orchestra of ripping noises. David tried to scream. He was terrified. But his jaw…it hurt so, so very much.

Dave couldn't imagine how this could get any worse…until he felt someone tugging at the waist line of his sweat pants. _Oh God, they're going to rape me_. Dave started praying, more fervently than he ever had before in his life. He couldn't really remember any specific prayers, except what he had memorized for his bar mitzvah, so he repeated it over and over again in his head.

Once his pants were off (and shoes, when had that happened?) the duct tape guy went to work wrapping it around his ankles. The big guy and the one who had yet to do anything other than carry a book bag, hoisted him up by his armpits and dragged him to the center of the track field. _Why?_

Those two left while the one who had hit him, both with his fists, his foot and the bat, and the duct tape guru started kicking him everywhere they could. Dave was pretty sure he could hear his spine crack once or twice. He whimpered pitifully. The baseball bat guy waved the other off him. _Thank you;_ Dave thought, thinking they were finally done with him. Instead, he lifted the baseball bat and brought it down on David's arm. David let out a scream. The duct tape dude went back to work, this time putting the tape over David's mouth.

The baseball bat bastard went back to work, repeatedly hitting David in the arm, the chest, and the leg.

Through blurred, starry vision he could see the other two returning, dragging something between him. Dave was in too much pain to try and reason out what it was, but as they got closer he could just tell. It was another poor, miserable bastard, probably tied up the same as him. All too soon he could see them drop their bloody, limp prisoner a few feet away.

The other boy wasn't nearly as battered as Dave…as far as Dave could tell. But he was much scrawnier, probably not used to getting tackled by 200lb linebackers, or getting slammed into plexiglass at 25 mph. The other boy slowly pushed himself to his knees; his hands were duct taped in front. He ripped the duct tape off his mouth; his bottom lip was split, off-centered and bleeding copiously. It was the perfect compliment to his swollen eye.

A hoarse, yet strangely melodic voice choked out _"Karofsky"?_

One of them men, Dave wasn't sure which one any longer, ripped the duct tape off his own mouth. Dave tried to call out Kurt's name. Instead, he coughed up blood.

Finally, one of the attackers spoke. "We're doing you a favor, Karofsky." Dave recognized the voice, but his addled brain couldn't place it. "This faggot made you sick: gave you the disease. The Karofsky _I_ know wouldn't want that. So we're going to make sure this cock-whore doesn't infect anyone ever again." One of them kicked Kurt in the back of the head for emphasis.

David whimpered, still unable to get his jaw to work properly. A softer voice, soothing almost, spoke next. "We know that, when you weren't sick, you wouldn't have wished this crap on anyone. So we're going to take care of you; we're going to make sure you can't spread it any worse than it already is."

That's when David realized it. Neither he, nor Kurt, were going to walk away this night.


	4. Wanting to Die

He tried out his jaw, slowly, carefully. It still hurt terribly, but compared to the pain the rest of his body was in, he could at least make an attempt. He had dragged Kurt into this, somehow. He was positive of it. He would get Kurt out of this. "I made Kurt gay."

"What the hell are you talking about, Karofsky?"

"I'm the fag. I made him my b-ch freshman year. That's how he got the gay. He left McKinley to get away from me, so he could heal, become cured. I'm the fag. Me, not him." Karofsky was a good liar. He was phenomenal at telling stories, awesome at acting, and surprisingly, usually pretty good at thinking on his feet. That's why most people didn't realize how intelligent he actually was. True, language and arts and history didn't come so easy to him. But there were other types of smarts, too. He was brilliant kinesthetically (though he didn't know the word for it) and he was aces in math and science. He wanted to study sport's medicine someday. But now, it looked like someday would never happen, no matter what shape it took.

"Either way, you're both gonna die you cock-sucking bastard." One of them pulled something out of the book bag: something that glinted in the pale moonlight, something alluring yet at the same time terrifying. David could take a punch, a hit of almost any kind. Hell, he had taken those baseball bat hits with a fair amount of dignity he thought. But some things, some pains, scared the hell out of him. Shots for instance. He didn't like shots. He couldn't stand _sharp_ pains. What he saw right now would definitely make a sharp pain.

Duct tape went over his mouth again and he felt someone digging their nails into his head, trying to gain purchase on his short (not-yet balding) hair. They pulled his head back so forcefully he was surprised his neck didn't break. And then the knife came up. Glinting, shining…scary.

Though loathe to admit it, David had seen a few musicals in his time; nothing super girly, but musicals none-the-less. Les Miserables, This Is The Army (with Ronald Reagan), Grease…but right now, Sweeney Todd was stuck in his head. That knife…it looked so much like the razors that killed so many people in that damn movie. The razors that Johnny Depp serenaded so lovingly, tenderly…

_These are my friends_

_See how they glisten_

_See this one shine…_

_How he smiles in the light_

_My friend…_

_My faithful friend_

_I'm going to die and I'm singing showtunes…Maybe Kurt really did infect me when I kissed him. Stop being an idiot. You've loved him since you first saw him play Captain Von Trapp in that eighth grade musical…and who was it before then? Gabe's friend, Dylan? And before that? The assistant hockey coach in middle school? No Dave, you were born gay…and now you're going to die gay._ These thoughts must have happened in an instant because all of Dave's conscious thoughts ceased when the blade went up against the skin on his forehead…_sharp…sharp…Sharp…Sharp…SHARP…SHARP….AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!_

David was screaming internally and attempting to scream externally but the duct tape held fast to his mouth. His eyes were squeezed tight. He couldn't see the way Kurt was crying as he watched Dave get tortured.

Finally the knife pulled away. Dave was still alive, interestingly enough. He opened his eyes, causing even more excruciating pain to radiate throughout his forehead. _Aren't you supposed to pass out after a certain amount of pain?_ Dave really wished he would just pass out already. However, years of physically brutal contact sports had conditioned him to withstand even the most intense pain.

The one with the knife left David, and walked over to Kurt. Kurt's head was being pulled back the same way Dave's had been. David could see Kurt's beautiful, graceful neck. So pale…

_His neck is no whiter than a swan's_

_He's only as dainty as a daisy_

_Okay, so maybe I have seen some girly musicals…so kill me…oh wait, bad pun. Really bad pun…_The knifer lifted the blade, but not to Kurt's forehead as he had done with Dave. "Prepare to see your sex-toy die, Karofsky." As the knife pressed against Kurt's throat, Dave could see only a white light…_Oh good, I'm dead. It's about effin time._


	5. Pearly GatesKinda

"FREEZE! Put your hands where I can see them. You! Drop your weapon!" David had been watching cops for years. His dad was a defense attorney…half of what they watched at home was court TV. He had seen enough episodes of Cops to know that people rarely, if ever froze. This was no exception. The three not holding the knife immediately ran. The one that was holding the knife made a quick flicking motion with his wrist, the hand holding the knife, before he followed suit.

Dave watched as two cops took off running towards them. One pulled out a gun. And kept yelling warnings. The one with the gun kept running right passed David and Kurt, but the second cop, his partner Dave assumed, stopped and kneeled over Kurt, before frantically pulling on his walkie talkie. Dave couldn't make out anything the cop was saying, but could hear that his voice was very annoying and kind of shrill; high pitched like Kurt's, but not as…cute. He turned around and came over to Dave, Dave kept his eyes on Kurt's still…_lifeless_ body. He could feel the duct tape being pulled delicately away from his mouth. _Just rip it off already, slowly hurts more!_ he screamed in his head. Dave heard a gun shot and watched, fascinated as the cop in front of him jerked at the noise. "I've called in for ambulances and a backup." Dave looked more closely at the cop.

He desperately wanted to ask if Kurt was alright…but Dave had a habit of saying stupid things at the wrong time; "Dude…you're a chick."

xoxoxoxo

Dave was conscious for the entire ambulance ride. He was sad when he saw the first stretcher bearers take Kurt away, but relieved at the same time. That meant he was still alive and they thought they could save him…if he got help really quickly.

When the stretcher bearers came for him, he screamed…and screamed…and screamed. The adrenaline rush that had kept most of the pain at bay for so long was long gone and getting jostled onto that stretcher, carted across the field, and hoisted into an ambulance sucked…majorly. He heard things like _humorous_ and _femur_ and _shattered_ and _broken_. Bad words. David new all the bones in the human body and most of the muscles and hearing those words, part of him knew that very instant, his hockey days were over.

_But I'm alive_.

…

_Not worth it if Kurt isn't._

…

_Your life doesn't revolve around him…you have a family_

…

_If he dies, it's my fault_

…

…

…

Once they were done talking to each other, the EMTs asked David a lot of questions.

"What's your name?"

"How can we contact your family?"

"Do you have any allergies?"

-"David Isaac Karofsky"

-"419-555-7924…my dad is Paul"

-"Kiwi, bananas, and latex"

_Seriously? Why did you say kiwis first? They're doctors, they aren't going to treat you with fruit…latex on the other hand…_They didn't ask about Kurt or what had happened. That kind of made Dave mad…though he couldn't figure out why.

Dave surprisingly didn't have any life threatening injuries. The gashes in his forehead weren't too deep…they hadn't been meant to kill, or even injure particularly. They were meant to humiliate.

He had a broken femur and a broken humorous. His knee was shattered. Two broken ribs. Interestingly enough, neither arm had been dislocated, though his jaw had on one side.


	6. Death Threats

Once they had finished all the immediate repairs, one of the cops came in…the chick, again. "Mr. Karofsky, can you identify the other boy?"

David's heart plummeted. He never understood why people said "broken heart" until the day that Kurt pushed him away in the locker room. But in case he had forgotten, the cop just reminded him big time. David honestly felt as though his heart were breaking: as though it were swelling and ripping apart. "He's dead?"

"Oh, no…no, no, no. He's going to live Mr. Karofsky, but he's isn't conscious. He wouldn't be able to talk even if he were." She patted his hand warmly. She had a strange air about her…strange for a cop anyway. She should have taught elementary school, not spend her days gunning down bad guys.

"Is my dad here?" David didn't look at the cop, but at the door to the hospital room instead.

The cop turned to follow his gaze but then looked back at him. "Yes, your family is outside, waiting. They'll be allowed in a moment, but right now, it's imperative you tell us who the other boy is so we can contact his family."

"His name is Kurt Hummel. My dad can call his brother, Finn Hudson, he has the number on his phone. I think that would be better than a cop or the hospital calling him. The dad just had a heart attack." _I'm having one, too._ She patted his hand again and turned, leaving the room.

xoxoxoxo

Paul was outside his son's hospital room…pacing and praying, praying and pacing. His wife was sitting in one of the waiting chairs against the wall. Still as a statue…always so calm. She had been raised Quaker, Paul usually blamed all of her traits on that, not that any of them were bad traits. After a seeming eternity, the police officer came out of David's room. Paul just looked at her, waiting for her to speak.

"You can see him in a moment, Mr. Karofsky. First, though, he said you would be able to contact the other boy's family." Paul looked back and forth from his son's room, to the general direction of the ICU: where the other boy was.

"Azimio Adams?" It was the only name that popped into Paul's head even though they had already described the other victim as a tall, thin, white boy. Dave never hung out with anyone but Azimio.

"No, he said it was a boy by the name Kurt Hummel. He said you could contact the boy's brother, Finn."

_Kurt Hummel…Finn Hudson._ _I have Finn's number? Yes, of course, I have most the first string football players on my cell. _Paul pulled out his phone, as he did so, "Can my wife go in, yet?"

"Yes, sir." The cop went over to Joan Karofsky and placed a hand gently on her shoulder to get her attention. She gestured to David's room. Joan smiled, sadly, and nodded before going. Joan ran her hand down Paul's arm as she passed him and he pressed the appropriate buttons on his cell.

xoxoxoxo

Finn was sleeping when he heard the most obnoxious sound in the world: his phone vibrating against the wood on his (Kurt's) nightstand in his (Kurt's) bedroom. He rolled over and, grabbing his phone (on the second attempt), propped himself up before reading the name on the phone.

Paul Karofsky had been programmed into his phone since freshman year when Finn used to sometimes get rides home with David. When he had gotten a new phone the number had moved right alongside the SIM card.

_I'm going to murder Karofsky…this is why you don't mix sake and jager…_ He slid his phone open and put it to his ear. "This had better be good David or I am going to personally murder you."

The voice on the other line was most definitely not Dave's. "I'm sorry to bother you so late…early, Finn. This is an emergency. I need you to get your step-father for me. Kurt's in the hospital." Knowing Kurt's history with Karofsky, and the threat, Finn feared the worst.

Finn had never moved so fast without a coach yelling at him. He pushed Burt's bedroom door open too hard and too fast and winced as it hit the bureau, making a loud noise and probably denting something. Then he remembered that he was _trying_ to wake people up. He clicked on the bedroom lights and could hear Burt cursing under his breath and saw his mom giving him a death glare. "Burt, it's an emergency."

He didn't feel as though he knew enough details to fill Burt in so handed him the phone instead. "Hello?" Finn watched as the color drained from Burt's face, and quickly returned as a vibrant, tomato-ish shade of red. "I don't give a shit if you're some hot shot lawyer, your son is dead. I am going to kill him. I am going to effin' murder him."

Finn couldn't hear the other end of the line; "I'm sorry Mr. Hummel. My son is in the hospital, too. He isn't responsible. He was attacked. Your son was too. I'm sorry this happened, but David didn't do it."

Burt threw the phone against the wall before getting up and rifling through his dresser. Carol was already getting dressed. Finn ran back to his room and pulled a t-shirt on. He had already been wearing long flannel pants and didn't particularly care that they had the Superman "S" all over them.


	7. Dave's Face Decor

Paul could only bear to be in the room with his son for about fifteen minutes. It was too painful to see. His wife stayed with David while Paul was out in the hall leaving messages on his office phone; reminders for things he had to do in the morning. He may have been a defense attorney, but he certainly knew a thing or two about prosecution. Two of the assailants had been caught and the other two had been named. Ohio still had the death penalty and Paul knew the exact people he wanted to pursue it.

He was still on his phone when he saw the Hummel-Hudson family coming. Clicking his phone shut he walked up to Burt. "Last I checked, Kurt is still in intensive care. I don't believe he's conscious, yet."

Burt grabbed Paul by the scruff of his collar. "You tell me exactly what happened to my son."

Paul didn't know the answer, so he told Burt what he did know. David had gone running at the track after the football game ended. He wasn't home by the time Paul and Joan had gone to bed. They got a call from the hospital around midnight saying his son had been attacked. David had been beaten fairly severely. Kurt had been beaten as well, but the doctors were positive he'd make a full recovery. David and Kurt had been attacked by some of the football alum; boys that he, Paul, had known (and disliked for years). Their ringleader, the one that the cop had shot and had been holding the knife was Tony Amata; a psychotic neo-Nazi who had spent more time in juvie than his own bedroom. The others were Cristopher Ferguson; a no-good punk with no direction in life, Hayden Miller; a bully and a thug, and Eric Mazzari; a shadow who did whatever the hell his "friends" told him to.

Finn confirmed the Paul's character witness accounts. He had cowered from most of them his freshman year. Occasionally they still popped around school; probably trying to relive their glory days: when they actually had something going for them.

Joan came out of David's room a few minutes later. One of her hands covered half her face as she cried. Carol felt instant pity for the woman and felt she knew exactly how that woman felt. She went over to her and hugged her. "He's going to live, Mrs. Karofsky. It'll be alright." Joan didn't stop crying and didn't resist the hug from the strange woman. Joan spent almost all her time at home and thrived on any kind of affection and attention. But even if she didn't, she would have been too exhausted to fight Carol's hugs.

Finn put his hand on his mom's shoulder. "Mom, she can't hear you. Mrs. Karofsky is deaf." It was the only thing Finn really knew about Dave's mom. As Carol pulled away from Joan, the woman looked up at her. Something in her eyes, told Carol she was grateful for the hug and she quickly returned Carol's hug before going over to Paul and started signing something to him.

Paul's brow furrowed as he followed the rapid hand movements and abruptly left her and went to their son's hospital room. Burt, despite the concern he had for his son, was curious to know what Joan had just said.

Paul was only gone five/ten minutes before he came back out, not looking at anyone. He sat down in one of the hard plastic chairs, leaned forward with his face in his hands while he took deep breaths for a few moments. He then leaned his head back against the wall and stared at the ceiling.

Something was wrong. Very wrong. Burt went and sat down next to Paul. There was nothing he could do for Kurt at the moment. But Paul looked hurt, more hurt than before, even though he had known what had happened for at least an hour.

Neither man spoke for a few minutes until Paul said softly "Motive, means, opportunity." Burt didn't respond. "It's something of a mantra in the justice field. If you have those three things, it becomes so much easier to convict someone. If you're missing one, it's that much harder. The opportunity in obvious; they did it on the track field in the dead of night. The means? A knife, a bat and their own fists and feet. I'm pretty sure I know the motive now. Why our boys got hurt."

Burt had already had a feeling he knew why Kurt was attacked. It was always because he was gay. Everything. What other reason could you have to not like Kurt? Paul, after a moment collecting his thoughts, continued. "One of them…Tony probably, since he had the knife, carved "FAGGOT" across David's forehead. Paul's breath caught in his throat. He could hear Finn quietly whisper "no way…"

"David says they wanted to kill them, him and Kurt, because they're gay. David never told me…I never knew. How could he keep something like this from me? Keep it to himself all these years?"

Burt wanted to put his hand on Paul's shoulder, but wasn't nearly as straight-forward as Carol. "You gotta look at this from his perspective. The world still hates gays. He had no way of knowing how you'd react." Paul made a motion to speak but Burt kept talking. "You could be the most liberal, honest, decent guy in the world. All for gay rights and all that fun stuff, until it hits home. There's never any way to tell how anyone will react to anything until it affects them directly. And a kid like David? He was probably terrified. Losing his family, his friends, everything." When Burt was finished it slowly occurred to him; he just stood up for David Karofsky, the boy who had made his son's life a living hell, the reason Kurt had to switch schools. Burt wasn't sure how he felt about that.

"God, I must have made him feel terrible all these years. I call my boys pansies and sissy boys when I know they're not giving their best in sports. I make gay jokes. I have a gay friend at the office, an intern. I call him 'twinkle toes' and 'tinkerbell' when he's not around." Paul leaned forward, putting his head back in his hands. "The boys have heard me call him that. And I've probably said a lot worse without thinking about it."


	8. Broken Dove

Dave woke sometime late in the morning. His mind woke up before his body and he could hear a steady "squeak-squeak, squeak-squeak." _Miriam's hamster's wheel_ David thought. If he could hear it squeaking from his bedroom, he could only imagine how loud it was in Miri's bedroom. He reminded himself he would have to put some vegetable oil on it to stop the noise. He slowly opened his eyes and allowed the painfully bright, white light to filter in gradually through his eyelashes. As his vision became less blurry he realized that this was not his bedroom; there were no posters on the stark white walls, his dresser was missing, the tv was much smaller than his own and there were no food crumbs in the bed.

Finally, he could see well enough to watch as several nurses wheeled a second, occupied bed into the room. The wheels on the bed were squeaking. They rolled the patient in head first so it took a moment for Dave to realize it was Kurt. He wanted desperately to call out Kurt's name, but didn't want to accidentally wake him. So he watched. He watched as they hooked Kurt up to his own set of machines. He watched as one of the nurses readjusted his blankets, tucking him in. A second nurse put some stuff on the table between the two boys' beds, but Dave couldn't turn enough to see what it was.

Dave had been lying on his left side when they had beat him, so the blows fell almost exclusively on the right side of his body: his right arm, his right leg, his right ribs. The only damage to his left side really was his face; kicking started at ground level and went upwards, so it was natural that Tony's foot would have connected to the left side of his face more so than the right.

The nurse that had tucked Kurt in asked him if he needed anything. Out of the corner of Dave's eye, he could make out Kurt slowly shaking his head.

…so Kurt was awake then…

The nurses left the room after doing a few more checks on both Kurt and Dave. When they were gone, Dave spoke up. "I am so sorry for all of this Kurt. This is my fault."

Kurt rolled over and grabbed whatever the nurse had left on the bedside table. He pulled it into his lap and started fidgeting with it. Dave still couldn't see what it was. _Please answer me Hummel…don't ignore me._

Kurt held up whatever it was he had been playing with: a small, rectangular white board. In delicate, curlicue cursive, Kurt had written out _You suffered as much as me, technically, I can't be angry with you_.

Again, Dave felt his heart breaking. Kurt couldn't talk. If Kurt couldn't talk, he couldn't sing. It was like that bird a few months ago. Dave had told his father that his dog was traumatizing wildlife when they let it run free in the woods nearby, but Paul wouldn't listen. When Sadie, the spaniel, had broken that poor dove's wing, Dave just wanted the miserable thing to die, so he let Sadie keep it and kill it. He then took a picture of the dog with the dead bird for evidence to show his dad.

_No bird should have to live without its wings._

Kurt was a dove with broken wings, and that was Dave's fault.

"Are you ever going to sing, again?" Dave held his breath as Kurt wiped off the board and went back to writing. Those same, effeminate curlicues spelled out _Yes, he missed my vocal folds, but the doctor still wants me to rest my throat._

Dave let his breath out slowly. Holding it had made him dizzy. Plus his eyes hurt from straining them so far to the right. This form of communication was going to be difficult.


	9. Bonding

Throughout the day, Dave's family came and went. The original Lima Ohio Karofskys (called the Hagans back then, before the only heir was a girl) had snagged up a decent sized piece of property and turned it into a small Black Angus ranch. Now, a hundred years later, three houses adorned the 150 acres; his own parent's house, his dad's brother's house (complete with wife and four children) and his second cousin's house (complete with husband and three children).

Dave's oldest brother Gabe lived in Lima proper with his wife and their toddler. Joseph still lived at home while he attended college.

There were two more groups of Ohio Karofskys from outside of Lima that visited as well. It felt like Karofskys that Dave hadn't even known existed had popped in throughout the day. And of course there was still the Pennsylvania branch of Karofskys and his mother's family, the Whitakers from Connecticut, that were probably in the air somewhere over New York at this very instant.

No one commented on _why_ Dave had been attacked along with Kurt, though he was certain they knew. In his family, it was the men who were gossipers.

The littler cousins kept a terrified distance from Dave, but seemed to gravitate towards Kurt, who, despite being unable to talk, was very friendly and warm towards them.

Aunts and older female cousins mother-henned him and cooed at him "what a poor baby you are." Uncles and older male cousins complemented David on being such a "tough trooper," that he was "built like a _real_ Karofsky." One not-so-great uncle even decided David's injuries warranted a nice long war story about a POW camp. Dave envied Kurt, at least he could choose to ignore these people and go to sleep without getting death glares.

Sometime around five o'clock, when the latest batch of Karofskys had filtered out, Dave saw, in his peripheral vision, Kurt grab up the white board. After a moment of scribbling: _You have a HUGE family_.

"I believe the technical term is 'herd'. I swear, Karofsky family get-togethers are like witnessing great migrations on Animal Planet." Dave could hear light chuckling from Kurt's side of the room.

The white board came back up a minute later _Who was the pretty brunette all over you?_ Before Dave mentally ran through his daily visitors to narrow down whom Kurt was talking about, Dave said the first thing that popped into his head…as usual. "I thought you didn't like girls?"

Kurt, lacking any broken bones, was able to sit up in bed and did so. He made sure Dave was making eye contact with him before he very dramatically rolled his eyes. Kurt's penmanship was getting progressively worse throughout the day…_I can appreciate a woman's beauty. Just because I'm not attracted doesn't mean I don't know 'pretty' when I see it._

Dave digested that a minute. _Crap, that might mean I'm _all_ gay and not just bi._ Dave had struggled with his sexuality for years not only because of his fear of people's reactions but because he wasn't entirely certain himself if he was gay. He fantasized about men, but sometimes when he saw a girl, he couldn't help thinking she were cute, or beautiful, or whatever. But the thought of actually doing anything with a girl? It kinda gave him the heebie jeebies. "Courtney. She's like my soul-twin or something." Kurt knit his eyebrows into a very confused look, which was undoubtedly painful Dave thought, given the state of Kurt's eye. "Courtney is my dad's brother's daughter. She's the same age as me and we look kind of alike and have all the same likes and dislikes. She's a girlular version of me."

Once again, Kurt hunched over the white board. _You're uncle lives next door right? Why doesn't she go to McKinley?_ Kurt must have been paying attention to more than what Dave had realized if he had figured out who was who and where people were from. But it was an honest question.

"Court goes to Seton Hall." Dave didn't need to explain any more. Seton Hall was a ritzy girl's school in Lima: not a boarding school like Dalton, but nice nonetheless. There was nothing more to talk about for the moment. The boys sat in comfortable silence for a while until the door to the room opened again. Dave groaned just loud enough for Kurt to hear while Kurt laid down on his side and pulled his blanket up high, pretending to be asleep.

That dwarf Finn was joined at the lips to poked her pointy-head in the room. "KURT!" She came running into the room with the rest of the Gleeks behind and plopped herself down unceremoniously on Kurt's bed. Kurt immediately pulled the covers off himself and sat up, throwing his arms first around Rachel, then around that Mercedes-chick. Each Gleek got a hug from Kurt while they squawked and babbled about how worried they had been when they heard.

It was Dave's turn to pretend he was asleep. He didn't need this right now. Kurt with his perfect little clique of "after-school special" variety of friends. He felt himself getting mad at Kurt, mad that he was forced to share a room with Kurt, mad that Kurt was rubbing his friends in his face. Where were Dave's "friends?" Death row probably if Paul had gotten his way…

Even that damn teacher was there. Of course, why wouldn't he be? He probably had no friends of his own: had to make do with a bunch of post-pubescent teens with hormone issues.

Dave felt his bed dip down on the right side. He turned his head and saw "Puckasaurus" sitting there. "Dude, is it true?" Noah ran his finger across his forehead so Dave couldn't possibly question what he was asking about. Dave could see Kurt go still and put his white board down. All the Glee members looked directly at Dave. The gothy asian chick had the decency to smack Puck on the arm. All the teens and Mr. Spanish teacher looked embarrassed by Puck's question…but curious nonetheless.

"Yeah. You wanna start something? I may have a cast on my arm, but I can still beat the shit out of you." Puck raised his eyebrows and looked away, mouthing "wow…" From Dave's perspective he couldn't make out the rest of what Puck had mouthed…"bitch-y."

Puck stood up and turned back to Dave, clasping his hands together in front of his chest he spoke in his best mock-pleasant voice. "If you're gay, that's your own deal. I don't give a shit. Kurt's queer as they come and he's my home-boy. I was just asking because that's absolute shit what they did." Puck folded his arms over his chest, giving Dave a "what now, punk?" kind of look.

Artie was the next to speak. "We aren't your enemies anymore Karofsky. What happened to you…_and _to Kurt, no one deserves that. If you and Kurt are willing to call a truce, I'm sure we can make friends as well." Artie wheeled closer and put out his hand to shake Dave's. The smile fell from his face as his brain acknowledged Dave's cast. He wheeled still more close and exchanged his right hand for his left. Dave stretched his left hand across his chest to reach Artie's. _Memo to self: make good with the cripple; you're probably going to be in a chair a long time and you'll need his help._

The sudden realization that not only had he lost hockey and football, but _also_ his ability to walk…and even write, it made Dave exhausted. Logistics spilled into his head rapid-fire: _my bedroom is on the second floor, how the hell can I drive, there are stairs leading up to our front door, how the hell do you get to the second floor in the school without the stairs, how do I get clothes on over my casts, how do I shower?_ Despite the fact that the Gleeks were still talking (to him, to Kurt, who knew?), he closed his eyes and let himself drift off to sleep.


	10. Kurt's Perspective

After his friends left, Kurt had expected Dave to wake back up, but apparently, he was sincerely asleep. Dave didn't even wake up when the Hummel-Hudsons came in later that evening.

Burt came in smiling affectionately at his baby boy. Seeing Dave fast asleep he pulled the privacy curtain to separate the two halves of the room. "How you doin' Kurt?" Kurt gave his dad the thumbs up sign. Logically, Kurt knew he should be suffering from some kind of post traumatic stress disorder, but the day had dragged on so long, he felt as though last night had been years ago or nothing more than some hideous dream. And truth be told, if anyone would suffer long term affects from last night, despite his constitution, it would be Dave.

Kurt had been walking the grounds at Dalton just after dark when he had been grabbed from behind by three of the assailants and dragged into a utility truck. They had punched him several times in the face before lashing him up with the duct tape. The rest of the trip had been relatively uneventful until they got to McKinley.

They made the mistake of leaving Kurt unattended in the truck while they checked out the area and met up with the fourth member of their party. Kurt had heard them talking on a cell phone on the way to McKinley; the fourth man had been stationed as a lookout to follow the second victim, though Kurt didn't know until he got to the field that the second victim would be Dave.

While they were gone, Kurt had been able to pull himself up and hobble to the back of the truck. Unable to get the rear door open, he crawled over the center consol that divided the two front seats from the body of the truck and into the driver's seat. While getting the driver's door open, Kurt must have hit accidently hit the lever controlling the front headlights, because, according to Officer Lamarque, that's what had made him and his partner check out the area. They had seen the open truck with its high beams on and started checking around the school grounds to the find the owner.

Kurt and Dave's would-be murderers had kicked Kurt in the temple for good measure when they found him on the ground a few hundred feet from the truck (walking when your legs are fastened together around the calves is both slow and awkward work).

From there, they had dragged him to the track field where they were rejoined by their two buddies and David. Kurt knew Dave's side of the story, as well, from hearing it over and over again as he (painfully) related it to family throughout the day.

If Dave's uneasy sleep this morning and gentle whimpers for the past fifteen minutes were any indication, last night would haunt David for a good, long time.

Carol held Kurt's hand while she told him how much they loved him and that it didn't matter what anyone else thought about him. Kurt had never personally cared what people thought of him or his sexuality, but if Carol felt better telling Kurt he should be proud of himself for who he is, then Kurt wasn't going to deprive her of that.

Finn didn't have much to say since he had come with the glee club earlier; however, he did come with Kurt's MP3 player and a selection of Kurt's DVDs. "I figured you're going to start getting really bored really quick."

Burt took his other hand in both of his. Kurt could tell from the heavy look about his father's eyes that he hadn't slept and had probably cried lately. "The docs want you to stay until at least Saturday, so they can keep an eye on your…your, uh…" Burt touched his own neck tenderly. "They also want you to talk to a trauma councelor a couple-a times before you go." Kurt nodded. The doctors had told him all this earlier when examining his bandages and stitches. "They also say after you're done resting up tonight, they think you can start talking again tomorrow. Slow and easy, though. Just because your vocal chords weren't directly hurt, doesn't mean the muscles around them weren't." Kurt liked to hear that news…well, not that the area _around_ his vocal folds might be injured, but that he could talk again in the morning.

His family stayed for around an hour before a nurse started ushering them out. The poor woman was only trying to do her job, but still had to physically drag Burt out of the room by the arm accompanied by a chorus of angry murmurs and curses (all coming from Burt, of course).

It wasn't too late yet and Kurt wasn't nearly as tired as David, so he pulled his headphones on and set his IPod to shuffle. Just before the opening chords started up, Kurt could hear a painful little sniffle come from Dave's side of the room.

_Someday, when my life has passed me by_

_I'll look around and wonder why_

_You were always there for me_


	11. Cookies and Angel Wings

When Dave woke up the next morning, Kurt was still asleep. Occasionally, Dave could hear very faint music wafting over to his side of the room. Craning his neck as far as it would go, he could see Kurt's sleeping face with his headphone cords dangling across his chest. Kurt woke up when the nurse delivered breakfast. Dave poked disappointedly at the scrambled eggs: not quite a McDonald's deluxe breakfast, but it would have to suffice.

When they had both finished breakfast, Dave spoke up, "How can you sleep with music playing?"

"Well it's either music or your snoring." Dave scrunched up his nose and lips in a distasteful grimace.

"I do _not_ snore…hey, you're talking again." Dave _had_ snored for part of the night, but _that_ Kurt could deal with. It was Dave's sleep mumbling Kurt couldn't bare to listen to. Kurt was relieved when Dave had stopped whimpering, but not too long after, he had started talking very softly. Initially, Kurt had thought Dave was talking to him or on his phone, but soon realized he was still asleep. Under normal circumstances, Kurt would have been amused by someone sleep talking, but A) Kurt couldn't make out anything Dave was saying, and B) he was sure Dave was probably having a nightmare.

"Yeah, they said I could start talking again today."

"That's good." Once again, Dave felt himself getting irrationally angry at Kurt. Kurt's voice was his life, just as sports were Dave's life. Kurt had gotten his voice back: his life would be fine. _I've lost sports and no doctor is going to give that back to me anytime soon. Not only that, but now the whole school knows I'm a fairy princess. I may as well have died that night because the David Karofsky who threw the party of the year Friday night is no more._

Dave wanted to go back to sleep. Some people, when depressed, eat. Some people shopped. Some people listened to music. Normally, Dave would work out. It was half the reason he was so strong. Now that he couldn't exercise, all he wanted to do was sleep. Of course Kurt didn't know Dave still wanted to sleep. "How did they find out you're gay? I'm betting you didn't come out willingly."

Dave really wished he had something to throw at Kurt for that last remark. "No _Hummel_, I did not 'come out willingly'. I don't know how they found out." Dave hadn't yet thought to connect Azimio's recent hostility to him being gay. "I was barely willing to say it aloud to myself." Dave still felt moderately impressed with himself for not denying he was gay when Tony had confronted him with Kurt. Not impressed that he had been willing to come out, but impressed that he hadn't left Kurt out to dry. Apparently, Kurt was thinking along the same lines.

"I never got to thank you."

Dave was confused. What did Kurt have to thank him for? Dave was the reason he was in this mess. "For what?"

"For trying to help me the other night…though your method was rather…interesting." Dave snorted. Kurt didn't need to know that, in Dave's personal little fantasy world, what he had said hadn't been entirely wrong. Dave had been picturing Kurt as his own personal love slave since he first noticed the boy sophomore year (Kurt's freshman year). He wasn't so disillusioned as to think Kurt had left McKinley because he wanted to be "healed," but he was fully aware that he was the reason Kurt had left.

He hadn't been on the football team last year, but when Kurt had joined the team and led them to their _only_ win of the season, Dave had been very excited and hopeful. If the star player of the football team was queer, Dave was positive he would be able to come out. But then Kurt left the team. And _then_ the Lady Gaga crap. As kinky as David found the Gaga outfit, he knew if _that_ was the school's perspective of gay, it would never be safe for him to come out. He had felt as though, while he, Dave, may have chosen to not come out of the closet sooner, Kurt had been the one to put the lock on the door.

That's when the violence had started. And the guilt. And the depression. He hadn't ever intended to seriously hurt Kurt, just scare him into being normal. Or at least acting normal.

Dave knew how wrong his actions had been. That's why he felt the need to try and protect Kurt that night…though Kurt could never know, at least not about the fantasies. Dave was saved from having to respond to Kurt by the door opening.

His mother came in with a large L.L. Bean bag slung over her shoulder. "Davey! I have presents." Dave smiled genuinely. He was a momma's boy, through and through.

Kurt hadn't yet met Dave's mother. She certainly wasn't what he had expected. She was very dainty for one thing; all of five feet tall and probably under 110 pounds. And she had a very interesting accent that Kurt couldn't place. _'Karofsky,'_ _maybe Polish or Russian?_

Joan pulled a chair in between Kurt and David and unzipped the bag. Kurt watched as she pulled out a black pillow with a scarlet wing on it. Dave felt himself getting mildly embarrassed, but screw it; he was happy to have his Cleveland Redwings pillow. The hospital pillows were flat and uncomfortable.

Kurt continued watching as Mrs. Karofsky got up and adjusted the pillow behind Dave's head. She went back to the bag of goodies. Next, she pulled out several Pepperidge Farms bags: goldfish crackers of various flavors and Milano cookies.

Out next was a white, rectangular chunk of plastic. This seemed to excite Dave the most. "Ha! My nook. Sweeeet…" Kurt could literally _feel_ his brain malfunction for a moment. _Dave likes to read…Dave knows_ how _to read_?

Dave sat the ebook reader down before his hand started flailing around spasmodically. Kurt thought he was having a seizure until Mrs. Karofsky began doing the same thing. Something clicked for Kurt, _She's deaf! That's why her accent is so unique._ Kurt had known Dave for years, but started to feel as though they had never even met. Joan put a bunch of DVDs on the bedside table and handed him an MP3 player before turning to Kurt. She reached back into the magic, bottomless bag and pulled out a second nook. "I thought you might like to have something to read. You can buy whatever you want."

Kurt was dumbfounded. Even if he knew sign language, he wouldn't have known what to say. Dave assumed Kurt's silence was because of the language barrier. "She reads lips. Just speak naturally and she'll understand."

Momentarily forgetting what Dave had just said about Mrs. Karofsky being able to read lips he turned towards him, wide eyed. "I don't know _what_ to say." Mrs. Karofsky laughed at Kurt's awkwardness. Dave smiled rather dopily.

Joan patted Kurt's hand softly. "You are welcome, Kurt." She stroked Kurt's bangs out of his eyes in a very tender way. Kurt felt like crying. He loved Carol dearly, but she was more of a friend. This woman was a mother down to her very core. Kurt had missed that since his mother's death.

Joan stayed for another hour before promising to come back with "a decent meal" for them for dinner.

Dave was messing around with his nook when Kurt looked over at him. "Your mom is very sweet."

Dave smiled without looking up from his book, "That's why my dad calls her "kitten."

"So are you fluent in sign language?"

Dave put the book aside and thought about it for a minute. "East coast American Sign Language. I learned it as I was learning to speak regularly as a baby. So…yeah, it's just natural to me."

Kurt was puzzled for a moment. "_East coast _American Sign Language? Wouldn't it just be sign language?"

Dave was used to this line of questioning. Anytime someone found out his mom was deaf they had questions. Some questions were definitely stupider than others, but Kurt's question was actually rather intelligent. "Sign language is just like any other language on Earth. Depending on where you are, there will be colloquial dialects, idioms, slang, etc. ASL is a language like any and every other."

"Huh…so, what movies did she bring?"

Before leaving, Dave's mother had moved the DVDs to the left of the bed where David could more easily access them. He scooped the stack up and started reading off the titles: "_Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels; Snatch; Miracle; The Mighty Ducks trilogy; __Street Fighter;__A Few Good Men;_ and season one of _Two and a Half Men_. Nothing you'd like."

Kurt had to concede he hadn't heard of most of them, but he was in a civil mood. "Actually, I kind of like the Mighty Ducks."

xoxoxo

After all three Mighty Ducks movies (complete with commentary by Dave on what would and would not have been allowed in real hockey), a movie marathon hiatus for lunch and another break when one of the nurses took David away for a while (therapy, Kurt assumed, though he didn't ask), Dave and Kurt were still joking about Emilio Estevez's seeming inability to age between _The Breakfast Club_ and the last _Mighty Ducks_ movie when the door opened.

It was about four o'clock, so Kurt was really hopeful it was New Directions again. Dave was mentally crossing his fingers that it was his dad.

Neither boy expected it to be Azimio Adams…


	12. Best Friends

**Sorry about the lag between this and the last update. I should be doing them a lot more frequently now that that ridiculous holiday is over.**

xoxoxo

Azimio wasn't even all the way in before Dave was "welcoming" him. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Azimio ignored Dave's obvious hostility and continued into the room. "How are you feeling, man?"

"Fan-fuckin'-tastic. like I just got drafted by the Redwings." Kurt winced. He had no idea why Dave was so angry at Azimio, but, having been on the receiving end of Karofsky's rage many times, he pitied the hockey player.

"Look Karofsky, I'm sorry about the past week…an' I'm sorry I didn't visit as soon as I heard. You're my bro and all but you can't blame me for being pissed at ya' and feeling betrayed. How'd you think I'd feel with you keeping something like this from me?"

Dave's glare would have produced death rays if he stared any harder at Azimio. "So you _are_ the one who told Tony I was gay. How'd you know?" Now Kurt was pissed at Azimio as well; this was _his_ fault.

"Seriously, I only told Hayden. I had no idea he'd pull this shit." Azimio averted Dave's eyes and started fidgeting with some cellophane he was holding…cellophane wrapped around a bouquet of flowers.

"How…did…you…_know?" _Dave wasn't sure why it was so important how he knew. After all, it wasn't like he'd be able to cover his tracks or anything; the entire school now knew he was gay and once the bandages came off his forehead, the entire world would know.

Az's eyes darted between Kurt and Dave. He licked his lips nervously. "Your phone…and, um…" he looked at Kurt again before making eye contact with Dave, "the, uh, pictures on it."

Dave knew what Azimio was talking about and hoped that Kurt would not. Not wanting Kurt to interject with any questions, Dave looked down at the flowers Azimio was holding. "What the hell is that?"

Azimio looked down at the flowers before looking up at Dave. He held them up for Dave to inspect. "They're flowers….lilies I think."

"_What_, in our twelve years of 'friendship' makes you think I'd want a handful of smelly, dead weeds?" Kurt was sort of beginning to feel bad for Azimio again. Judging by Dave's tone, if it hadn't been for his casts he would have been on his feet hoisting Azimio against the wall.

Azimio was tired of getting the brunt of Dave's anger. "I dunno, what in our twelve years of friendship would have had me think you like cock?"

_Not feeling bad for him anymore_; thought Kurt.

Dave's voice was surprisingly calm when he spoke, "Look back on the past twelve years: everything you have ever learned about me. I'm still Dave. I still love sports, Jean Claude Van Damm, slushies, Olive Garden and Big Macs. I still do _not_ like Cher, shoes, makeup, flowers and _Sex and the City_. The absolute only thing that is different than the Dave you _thought_ you knew last week is that I like dudes and can't play sports anymore."

Azimio's head shot up. "You can't play hockey and football, no more?"

Dave shook his head. "Broken humerus, broken femur in two places, busted knee, and broken ribs." Dave pointed with his good arm to each place as he mentioned it. It was like a twisted version of "Head and Shoulders, Knees and Toes."

Azimio actually looked moderately relieved. "Yeah, well, all that can heal up. You'll play again."

Dave looked to his left and stared at the wall. "There isn't any muscle damage and they don't think that there's any nerve damage, but it's the knee that's going to screw me over."

Azimio fidgeted with the flowers for a few moments. Dave remained quiet, not looking at anyone, not talking, and barely even breathing, although Kurt _could_ see David's shoulders slowly raise and lower when he did take a breath. Azimio placed the flowers on the table between Dave and Kurt. He patted Dave's cast-ed arm. "I just wanted to pop in and say 'hi' and all that. So, ummm. 'hi.'"

"Uh-huh"

"I guess, I'll, uh, see you later. Bye, Dave. Bye, Hummel." Azimio turned and left. He tossed Dave one last look over his shoulder before exiting the door, but Dave was still staring blankly at the wall.

"You just wanted to make sure I knew you weren't directly responsible for this." Dave's voice was bitter and hurt, but Azimio was already gone. Kurt came over to the left side of Dave's bed and sat down on the edge, careful not to make any physical contact.

Dave didn't acknowledge Kurt's presence. "I'm sure you two will make up…And if not, you can make new friends, people who won't treat you like that."

Dave looked up at Kurt after several minutes. "Az is the _only_ friend I have _ever_ had. Although Az is probably the reason that I don't have any other friends. I'm violent all on my own, it's part of the reason I play football. But Azimio's the one that always got the bright ideas that involved hurting other people."

"Interesting, considering Azimio was rarely, if ever there when you were locker-slamming me." Kurt folded his arms over his chest. With his legs crossed at the knees, he looked like the perfect little bitch.

Dave let out a soft chuckle and smiled at Kurt's pissy, little look. "It's called body checking and it was just an excuse to touch you."

Kurt's eyes went wide. He hadn't been expecting Dave to so readily admit something like that, though he had suspected that that was part of the reason Dave shoved him. "Flirting probably would have worked a lot better, but even so, you aren't my type, Dave."

Dave crooked his elbow and used his arm to support his head. "That _is_ flirting Kurt. And speaking of who _is_ and is _not_ your type…where's _Bland_?"

Kurt's arms uncrossed slightly, his posture relaxing just noticeably so Kurt looked less defensive and more _vulnerable_. Kurt turned his head, averting Dave's eyes. "We had a fight two weeks ago." Dave leaned forward, obviously interested in this turn of events. "Blaine kept sending me mixed signals and when I tried to send some signals of my own, he called me an 'attention whore'. We haven't spoken since. He probably knows I'm in the hospital, but not necessarily which one. And honestly, I wouldn't want him here if he did."

Dave wanted to fist-pump the air, but instead he made an attempt at looking regretful for Kurt's sake. "That's too bad. You two looked sexy together. I would have paid to get front row seats to that."

Kurt went back to his pissy look. "You really _are_ a Neanderthal, aren't you?"

Dave smiled broadly up at Kurt. "I know I'm not your type and all, but I _am_ convenient. And I'm not as much of an ass as I put off. Maybe you could give me a shot?" Kurt almost looked like he was considering it for a moment…until Dave opened his mouth again. "Seriously, though. I 'd pay to tap that." Dave looked Kurt up and down from head to toe and licked his lips suggestively.

Kurt leaned in close to Dave, his eyes burning furiously. "You have as much chance of "tapping" this as getting drafted by your beloved NHL."


	13. Like Home

**FYI: Joan Karofsky is based on my great-aunt (who went deaf at age 3) as well as the me I am becoming (at age 19 I had 50% hearing loss and now, four years later it cuts out completely every now and then)**

**To those of you who have asked about the scar on Dave's forehead, that wasn't inspired by any other fanfiction but rather, a friend constantly threatens to carve things into my head (when I forget important dates/names/etc.).**

**Glad so many of you are enjoying this **

xoxoxo

Kurt felt moderately bad for his comment. It had been a low blow, but Dave needed to learn to shut his mouth. Dinner was a bit strained when Joan and Paul came in that night but eased up considerably once Kurt's own family showed up.

They all spent the night chatting and joking around, with Paul and Dave translating for Joan. Paul and Burt seemed to get on famously, as though they were old friends. Kurt had a feeling they had been talking together outside of the hospital. Dave knew that to be true, his mom had told him that morning.

The Karofskys and the Hummel-Hudsons all left around the same time, but Paul and Burt stayed behind to talk to Kurt candidly. Kurt was genuinely surprised. He knew Paul was a lawyer. He also knew that there was probably going to be plenty of trips to the courthouse for the trial during the next few months. However, why they wanted to talk to him and not both him and Dave was a bit over Kurt's head: at least until they began talking.

"Kurt, Carol and I sent you to Dalton to keep you safe. They assured us that Dalton would be a protective environment for you. Obviously that isn't the case." Burt was sitting beside Kurt, holding his hand and watching Kurt's reactions very carefully.

Paul started talking next. "David is no longer a threat to you at McKinley. Even if he wanted to, he would be unable to act on his own. At McKinley, you have the protection of your friends, the staff, and after school you would have the safety and protection of your family."

"What he's trying to say, Kurt" it was Burt speaking again. "I would feel safer if you moved back home."

Kurt sat up and threw his arms around his dad. He hated Dalton. Dalton was stifling with all of its rules and regulations. The Warblers treated him as though he were an amusing little child: someone ignorant and naïve to be tolerated, but never taken seriously. And the _uniforms_: dear God how Kurt missed his McQueen and Marc Jacobs. Dalton made Kurt feel like a peacock being forced to dress like a pigeon. "But what about all that tuition you paid, dad?"

Paul answered this, rather smugly, Kurt thought. "They have agreed to return the tuition as well as an _incentive_ to encourage your father _not_ to pursue litigation." So that was it, Kurt thought. _Every cloud has its silver lining; I get to go home to McKinley and Lima…I wonder what Dave's silver lining is?_

xoxoxo

Both Kurt and Dave were woken up the next morning by Courtney. Like Joan the previous day, she came bearing a bag of goodies. "Good morning, guys! I brought some board games for you."

Kurt plastered his best fake smile on his face. Family nights were usually the only time he ever played board games, but he didn't want to make Courtney feel bad. Looking over at David, Kurt was mildly surprised to see how genuine Dave's smile was, though that might just be because Dave was excited about seeing Courtney. Courtney pulled a large textbook out of the bag before putting it on the floor beside the bed. Courtney climbed over Dave's casts and lay down on top of him with the book. This was the second time Kurt had seen the two together; if he hadn't known that Dave was gay or that Courtney was his relative, he would have thought they were romantically involved.

Courtney smothered Dave in kisses, not even bothering to avoid his bruises or bandages, before rolling off him onto the side of the bed. Dave adjusted the bed so that they were sitting relatively upright. Courtney opened up the book on her lap and began flipping through it. "This is awesome Court, lemme see it?" Dave took the book from her and laid it out on his own lap. He flipped to the very end of it, before opening it back up and searching for a specific page number. "Do you have a pen or something?" This question was also to Courtney; Kurt nearly disappeared off Dave's radar anytime his family was around.

Courtney patted herself down before pulling something out of her pocket. "Pencil."

Taking it from her, Dave responded "Even better." He began drawing in the book. "Right there, there, there, all over here, there, there and there." Kurt got sick of being ignored so he got up and pulled a chair over to the right side of Dave's bed. Looking over Dave's shoulder, he could see that the book was an anatomy textbook. Dave was opened to a picture of the skeletal system. It took Kurt a moment to see where Dave had drawn in the book, but once he noticed the first faint line across the one of the ribs, all the other lines became glaringly apparent. David had superimposed his own injuries over the skeleton. Kurt knew all of Dave's injuries; that first day, when his family had come in droves, Kurt had been forced to sit through hours of Dave answering his family's questions. One injury however took Kurt by surprise; Dave had drawn little lightning-blot like sketching over part of the skull. Not lightning bolt like the infamous Harry Potter scar, but lightning bolt like you sometimes see on the weather shows: a single point branching down into several directions.

Dave looked up at Kurt, tilting the book so he could see better. "Courtney bought this for me. Biology is to me, like fashion is to you." Kurt nodded. He wasn't sure if he should mention his surprise at Dave's apparent concussion, but decided against it. Dave continued flipping through the book occasionally stopping to show Courtney and Kurt something "particularly interesting." Honestly, Kurt found it painfully boring, at least until Dave showed him illustrations of the inside of the human throat. Dave showed Kurt exactly where his throat had been cut and what the inside probably looked like post-injury: what muscles would have been affected, which hadn't, what each muscle controlled, etc. Kurt was astounded to learn Dave knew more about Kurt's injuries than even he did. And being Dave (i.e., not possessed of the best verbal skills), he was able to explain Kurt's injuries a great deal better than the doctors in a way in which Kurt could understand.

Dave continued browsing his book while Courtney and Kurt set up a game of Blokus on Kurt's bed. Kurt had never played before; he was very used to corny "old-school" games like Sorry, Life, and Candy Land. The games Courtney had brought all required a certain degree of strategy; Risk, Battleship, and Stratego. Kurt couldn't help but enjoy himself, although he would have preferred "Seen It" or perhaps a trivia game of some form.

"So Dave says you sing?" Kurt looked up from the Blokus board. He was a bit surprised David had ever mentioned him to Courtney, although if they were half as close as Dave claimed, he really shouldn't be all that surprised.

"I sing for my school's glee club. I love singing." Kurt had a strange shaped Blokus piece in his hand at the moment and really couldn't imagine where he was going to place it.

After finding the worst possible place for it, Courtney put down one of her more obscure shapes. Kurt was once again stuck on where his next piece should go. Courtney barely even looked at the board as she played. "Dave sings too you know."

A copy of _My Fair Lady_, one of Kurt's movies, hit Courtney in the back. "Shut up, Court."

Kurt smiled devilishly over at David. "Is that so Courtney? I don't believe I have _ever_ had the _pleasure_ of hearing David sing." Dave glared at Kurt. David had an amazing glare. Even now that Kurt wasn't afraid of David anymore, he still managed to send a shiver down Kurt's spine with a single a look.

"Davey, you have to sing to him! Sing him something good, something like 'Delilah' or 'Bad Day.'"

"Yeah Davey." Kurt was enjoying this. He knew Dave loved Courtney, but wasn't certain if he loved her enough to embarrass himself for her sake.

"How about not." Dave went back to his book, but looked up one last time to see Courtney make the saddest puppy-dog face at him. Her bottom lip stuck out and she had actually managed to will tears into her eyes. David moaned, almost sounding like a deep-throated growl. He watched Courtney for a moment, hoping her façade would falter. When it didn't he took a deep breath and began;

_I can't remember anything_

_Can't tell if this is true or a dream_

_Deep down inside I feel the scream_

_This terrible silence stops it there_

Dave continued singing the words to Metallica's "One." Kurt couldn't help feeling moderately impressed. David sang decently. Granted there was almost no range in the song, but still, he wasn't tone deaf.

After that, David seemed to disappear into his own little world. Kurt felt obliged to continue entertaining Courtney, but after a while she got bored and decided to leave. Kurt wanted to slap Dave and tell him to stop being a big baby. _So Courtney forced him to sing…how horrible. Grow up._ He pulled on his MP3 player and began listening to tunes until breakfast arrived.

xoxoxo

**For those of you who don't know, Metallica's "One" was inspired by the movie **_**Johnny Got His Gun**_** which in turn was based on the book of the same name. It's about a WWI soldier who gets his jaw, limbs, and eyes blown out by a mortar shell and loses all ability to communicate. I felt it was an appropriate song for Dave.**


	14. Parting Ways

**Okay, the time has come to thank all of my magnificent reviewers. I would do individual send-ups, but I'm afraid that would cause hostility to anyone I might forget. Just know that I love you all and you have all been amazing **

**And to those of you who have favorited me or my story or set an alert on it, you are loved too. Thank you for feeding my vanity.**

xoxoxo

Kurt had gathered all of his stuff into a pile on his stripped-down bed. Currently, he was working on collecting all of David's belongings into a single, manageable pile. It wasn't that difficult seeing as everything had to be within David's arm's reach. Kurt couldn't believe he had been here almost a week. Today, it was finally time to go home. Check out wouldn't be until this afternoon, but Kurt felt the need to make sure nothing would get left behind.

David was with one of the nurses at the moment getting outfitted with an electric wheelchair: a regular one like Artie's would be just too difficult to maneuver with only one good arm. Kurt checked the DVD player again to make sure no disks got left behind then debated with himself whether or not to put the second Nook into David's pile or his own. Joan had said it was for him, but Kurt didn't feel right keeping such an expensive gift. On the other hand, he had bought a couple really good books on it that he didn't want to give up; decisions, decisions.

Kurt did a quick sweep of the room, forgetting about the bandages on his neck until a tugging sensation alerted him to the fact that he had probably just pulled up some of the tape. He went into the bathroom adjacent to the hall and looked at himself in the mirror. His first thought was that he didn't look _too_ horrible considering he had done without his skin care regime for six whole days. His second thought was that even so, he looked like death warmed over. Finally, he looked at the bandage on his neck; sure enough, it had pulled loose at the corner. Kurt tried patting it down, but the adhesive did not want to do its job. Finally, Kurt decided to just take it off. He tugged slowly at the corner of the bandage, feeling no resistance; he kept pulling, slowly and delicately. It stung a little when it came to the stitches, but the remainder of it came off smoothly.

Kurt looked in horror at the disgusting, curved mark going across his neck. _Thank god for scarves and turtlenecks_. The nasty red and brown scab was just to the left of his jugular vein, right above the collarbone. Tony truly was an idiot. Front and center and Kurt would have been dead; instead, he had only managed to ruin Kurt's perfect skin.

Kurt chastised himself for being so vein. It could have been so much worse for him. Just look at poor David. _Speak of the devil…_

Kurt turned around to see one of the nurses wheeling David back into the room. As usual with Dave, it was a male nurse: someone capable of lifting him into and out of the bed, as well as helping him with "other" things. Dave had confided in Kurt one night that if he hadn't been so morbidly embarrassed he might possibly have been aroused. Kurt knew David hadn't meant it. He had realized earlier in the week that humor (generally tasteless and/or self deprecating) was one of Dave's ways of dealing with anything uncomfortable. It was almost like Dave was re-learning all of his life-skills; he couldn't work out when he was depressed, so he slept; he couldn't hit something when he was angry, so he became sarcastic; he couldn't escape when he got uncomfortable, so he shut himself down emotionally or tried to hide his discomfort with humor. If it weren't for how often Dave's nervous humor turned into really bad come-on lines or vulgar suggestions to Kurt, he would have felt terrible for Dave.

The nurse helped Dave back into bed and settled him into a "comfortable" position. Dave was generally a side or stomach sleeper, so this whole deal with the casts sucked just that much more; "comfortable" had ceased to exist.

Kurt looked at the clock. Three more hours until their families were scheduled to arrive. "Dave, I'm gonna put on _My Fair Lady_, any objections?"

Dave groaned. "Every known objection to mankind, yes."

"Just checking." Kurt popped the disk in anyway. The nurse looked at Kurt for a minute. Kurt didn't like the look he was giving him.

"Did you remove your bandages on your own?"

Kurt was mildly affronted. They were _his_ bandages; he had a right to do with them as he pleased. "Yes, yes I did." The nurse put his hand under Kurt's chin and forced him to lift it slightly.

Looking over Kurt's stitched to make certain they were undisturbed he conceded. "Okay, so long as you didn't do any damage." He pulled Kurt's clipboard off the hook on the end of his bed. "They should be coming out…next Thursday. Keep them clean until then…and don't mess with them anymore."

The nurse left the room just as the opening credits began to roll. Kurt lay back on his bed, careful of the two piles so nicely constructed there. The nook had inevitably found its way into Kurt's pile.

Despite his apparent hatred of this movie, Kurt noticed Dave was watching it each time he glanced over at him. _We'll make a gay boy out of him yet._

xoxoxo

Dave wasn't entirely surprised to find that his dad had purchased a handicapped van with an electric wheel chair lift. Nor was he surprised to learn that Joseph had constructed and overlaid a wheelchair ramp over the front steps of the house. What _did_ surprise Dave was to find that most of his bedroom had been moved to the front living room. Privacy curtains had been erected over the doorways, the couch had been replaced by Dave's bed, and mom's china cabinets had been replaced by Dave's bureau and television. Dave was rather impressed.

Plus all of his Pennsylvania family and Connecticut family was finally there. Gabe, Courtney, and Courtney's older brother Connor had put up a giant tent over the rear patio in Aunt Samantha's backyard (a spacious area generally utilized during family get-togethers and therefore entirely prepared for the onslaught of Karofskys and Whitakers). Dave had minor difficulty getting his chair over the wet grass onto the patio, but once he was there the chair maneuvered over the paving stones without fault. This was turning out a lot better than he had expected. Sure no sports, but he had been dealing with that idea for a week now. It was the unknown things, like transportation and living arrangements that had been eating away at him. Now that he knew all of that was covered, he felt like he could sort of relax and get back into the swing of things.

He spent most of the evening socializing with the relatives he hadn't gotten to see earlier in the week. Cousins he couldn't quite name acted as though they had been best friends forever. His little sisters, Miriam and Jenny spent the "party" trying to make him feel as comfortable as possible, bringing him food and drinks. They hadn't seen him at all that week, mostly because Joan was terrified of how they'd react to his face. They were both still in middle school and lacked what was generally referred to as "social graces" (they were tactless), so their mom had been worried they would say something to upset Dave.

By the time Dave decided he was done for the day it was well past ten at night. The sisters and the little cousins had mostly gone to bed for the night, but the adults were still living it up; any excuse for a family get-together was a good excuse. Even funerals were generally festive occasions. When Paul's older brother Isaac had died, Paul's toast had been something along the lines of "best family party of the decade and of course Isaac has to go and ruin it."

Dave was pleased to find he could get across the grass and the road, up the ramp and into the house with no issue. He made his way into his makeshift bedroom and grabbed some flannel pajama bottoms out of his drawer. Piece of cake. Dave made his way to the bathroom between the living room and the kitchen and pushed the door open. No problem. As he continued through the doorway however, the chair gave a lurch and then started making a whirring noise, but there was no movement. Dave looked around the chair and immediately noticed his problem; he was wedged firmly between the sides of the doorframe. He tried rocking himself loose, reversing, going forward; he even tried pushing himself loose with his good arm. Finally he slammed his head against the doorframe a few times before giving up. Dave was still there, fast asleep when Paul came in half an hour later.

xoxoxo

**Paul's eulogy was actually one given by one of my uncles to another uncle who passed. Classy, right?**

**As for Dave's wheelchair difficulties, that's a send up to one of my students who spent a grueling two months in a wheelchair at the beginning of the year and got stuck on something at every imaginable opportunity. I have no idea how she managed it, but she certainly made me feel very grateful for the things I had and could do.**


	15. Back to Normal

This is only getting posted because LadyGayGay was riding my ass. At midnight no less!

J/K, love you LGG!

xoxoxo

Saturday had been a lovely, relaxing day for Kurt. Carol and his dad had been kind enough to just let him go about his business without any pomp or circumstance. It was nice to be home, not in a hospital and not at the equally sterile Dalton. Sunday, however, would be anything but relaxing. Kurt would have to return to Dalton one final time to collect his things and say his final farewells.

He and Finn made the trip to campus together. Kurt had only gotten two bags packed with clothes before the confrontation Kurt had been dreading came. Finn was busy loading the first two bags of clothes into the car while Kurt worked on a third. _Why did I bring so many clothes anyway? It's not like I would ever have had the opportunity to wear any of them_.

"Eh-ehm." At the sound of someone clearing their throat Kurt looked up towards the door. There, in all his perfectionist glory was the hated…and adored…Blaine Anderson.

Kurt maintained his eye contact for only a second before going back to his packing. "What do _you_ want?"

"Oh, come on Kurt. I know you've had a pretty shitty week, but don't make it sound like it's my fault." Blaine came over and sat on Kurt's roommate's bed. Kurt refused to look at him. He was still pissed at Blaine for calling him an attention whore: whether or not the title was deserved. When Kurt had left the hospital yesterday, he hadn't been at all surprised to discover around ten missed calls and two-dozen texts from Blaine. Kurt cleared them all without a second thought.

"I _know_ it's not your fault, but just because I've had a "shitty week," don't think I'm going to forget how you treated me before that for a second." Kurt gave up on folding a uniquely asymmetrical Mark Jacobs sweater and shoved it roughly into the bag, not caring anymore if it got wrinkled or ripped. He just wanted out of that room and away from _Bland_.

Kurt smiled to himself at the thought; Dave had been right-on with his assessment of Blaine. He may have been cute and endearing, but the boy was a perfect cutout of what you expected a rich little snob to be; perfect manners, perfect style and perfectly spoiled. Everything had to be exactly as _Blaine_ wanted it or it wouldn't work out. And Kurt hadn't acted exactly as Blaine wanted him to, so now there was no way they would ever work out.

"Look, I'm sorry I ever hit on you Blaine. But I'm leaving now. I'm not coming back to Dalton. Ever. So don't worry, I'm out of your life forever. Go find yourself a nice little Stepford boyfriend. Okay?"

Blaine put his hands up defensively. "I only came to apologize." He got off the bed and headed towards the door. He didn't even bother looking back as he said, ever so nastily "See you at Regionals."

Kurt balled up a shirt and threw it at Blaine's receding form. Despite the force behind Kurt's violent throw, the balled up shirt barely made it a few feet before flopping onto the floor rather comically. Kurt desperately wished he had had something much harder to throw.

xoxoxo

Joan drove Dave to school Monday morning. He had begged for a few more days off, but his father had essentially told him to suck it up. As a compromise, Paul had called the school ahead of time and gotten permission for Dave to wear a cap in school. Dave didn't care anymore if people knew he was gay, but he still didn't want to advertise the fact.

It took Dave a few minutes to figure out how to bypass the front stairs of the school, after a brief search though he discovered a well-concealed wheelchair ramp along the side of the stairs. Dave had an equal amount of difficulty getting through the doors; he had to wait a bit before someone came by who was actually willing to help Dave "The Fury" Karofsky by holding the door for him.

His locker was another nightmare. His locker was on top, of course. But that was fine, he was sure his teachers would understand that he couldn't reach any of his stuff. His inability to access his notebooks or textbooks didn't bother him so much as the fact that it was _yet another_ thing he couldn't do. Dave just glared at his locker. He wasn't quite certain what he was hoping to accomplish, but in the past, glaring usually had gotten him whatever he wanted, at least at school. When the locker still refused to open he slammed his cast against it. The pain shooting up his arm was so intense it took him a minute before it stopped hurting enough for him to scream. "Mother fucking piece of FUCKING SHIT!"

A passing football player openly laughed at him before continuing on his way. Dave watched him walk down the hall. No one was afraid of him anymore. _Great, kick him while he's down. Hell, there's probably a sign-up sheet to fuck with me now_. "Fuck you too, you piece of shit." He was positive that the third-string nobody couldn't hear him, but it still felt good to yell.

Dave decided to abandon his locker and wheeled his way to his first period class. His first attempt was less than graceful: he banged his foot against the doorframe. His second attempt, he came at the door from the wrong angle and got caught on the frame. After a third failed attempt from yet another bad angle, Dave felt his chair being pulled backwards. The chair seemed to magically reposition itself to the correct angle before he was wheeled effortlessly into the literature class.

He craned his neck around and saw one of the school's token Asian kids pushing his chair into place for him. It was that second string tackle, Mike. One of the Gleeks, Dave thought. _Didn't I punch him once?_ "Um, thank you."

Mike smiled at him pleasantly enough. "No problem. Artie's going to meet up with you at the end of the period to give you a wheelchair-friendly tour of the school." Mike took an empty seat behind and to the side of Dave.

Dave furrowed his brow. "I've been going here for three and a half years, I think I know my way around."

Mike shrugged. "Yeah but do you know where all the elevators are? The handicap entrances and exits? Which bathrooms are handicap accessible and which aren't?"

Dave thought about it for a minute. "There are elevators in this school?"

Mike's smile parted, showing his top teeth. Dave was pretty sure that was Mike's way of laughing at him so he turned around, pulled his Redwings cap lower over his head and pretended to pay attention as the teacher began to talk.

xoxoxo

Artie's tour had been much more informative than Dave had expected. He learned which elevators were the most reliable, which classrooms were the most difficult to get into and the best way to access them, the best way to approach a locker (once he got his switched to a bottom one, that is), and the easiest way to carry most of his stuff on his chair. It was nice to learn that Artie shared a lot of Dave's insecurities about being in a chair, but they each had their own kind of hardships; Dave only had one usable arm, so getting in and out of the chair was a huge chore if he didn't have help, but Artie would be in a chair the rest of his life. Dave wasn't entirely sure which of them had it worse. After all, he was pretty sure Artie didn't need any help going to the bathroom or taking a shower.

Several of the glee members helped push Dave throughout the day; steering the chair apparently had something of a learning curve to it, though Artie couldn't really help him with that since their chairs were operated in completely different ways.

None of the football players made any attempts to help him at all; few even acknowledged him. Hockey players on the other hand offered their condolences and even helped him get some of his stuff from his locker. He had always gotten along better with them than the football players. On the football team, he was nothing but a right guard; a glorified body guard for Finn Hudson. On the hockey team, however, he had made it to alternate captain his sophomore year and had been the captain for the past two. He was the best damn player the school had ever seen and his team knew they were sunk without him.

When the day ended, Dave was at something of a loss. He had always had something to do after school. Freshman, sophomore and senior year he had been loaded down with football and hockey. Junior year, he had had hockey and had done a lot of independent study of hockey strategy and history (he had taken his role of captain a little too seriously). All four years he had also had a job. Now though, with sports out of his life and no longer able to handle his job as a first aid technician at the ice rink, Dave had a feeling he was going to be deathly bored. Little did he know that good old Paul had no intention of letting him wallow in self-pity.

xoxoxo

Now can I go to sleep LadyGayGay?

lol


	16. Sinking

"Okay, the shrink I understand. The physical therapy I definitely understand. But anger management? Why the fuck do I need anger management?" Dave slammed his good fist down on the table. He really didn't understand his father's reasoning. _He_ was the victim here, after all. He had a god-given right to be pissed off!

Paul, calm as ever, waited until he had David's attention before speaking. "You can't deny that you aren't overly aggressive, David. Now," Paul put his hand up to silence David's objections, "you have no outlet to deal with your violent tendencies."

David looked to his mother for backup. He signed rapidly to her "You cannot honestly believe that I need anger management, do you? Please mom! Back me up here!"

Joan tentatively looked back and forth between David and Paul. "I have to side with your father on this one, David." At least his mom looked somewhat guilty over her choice. David laid his head down on the table.

Jenny, the older of Dave's two younger sisters was passing through the kitchen. "Besides, it's not like you have anything better to do."

Dave tilted his head up so he was watching Jen over his arm as he snarled at her. "I will kill you slowly and painfully while you sleep, you little freak!"

Jenny stuck her tongue out at David before leaving. Paul put a hand on David's head and forced him to make eye contact. "This is exactly what I'm talking about, David. You need to learn to control your temper: not only your actions, but also your words. It's stuff like this that almost got you expelled."

Dave put his chair into reverse, leaving the impromptu conference. "Yeah, well if you hadn't gotten me un-expelled, I wouldn't be in this damn chair."

Joan patted Paul's hand. She hadn't seen what Dave had said, but she could tell from Paul's face that it had upset him greatly. Paul stroked Joan's cheek before signing to her. "I feel as though we are loosing our baby boy: like he's slipping through our fingers."

Joan shook her head sadly while replying, "He is falling and won't let anyone catch him." Paul nodded and took both of Joan's hands in his, stroking the backs of them with his thumbs.

xoxoxo

Monday – anger management

Tuesday – physical therapy

Wednesday – mental therapy

Thursday – physical therapy

Friday – support group

Saturday – alternative therapy

Dave looked at the little post-it note of his weekly schedule. _Well at least I don't have to worry about being bored_. He knew what the anger management was all about, he had just gotten home from his first session and it was as much a waste of time as he had expected. Physical therapy was pretty obvious; every athlete knew what physical therapy was, although David had never personally needed it before. The mental therapy was just your average run of the mill shrink, he had seen one of those in middle school when he had told a school councilor that he sometimes felt like the world seemed to get literally darker when he was around other people. After that little fiasco, he stopped talking about how he felt. Support group he was pretty certain was just that: a support group for people who had been through something traumatic. _Too bad that probably won't lead me to joining some kickass fight club_. Dave smiled to himself. He would have to watch that movie again sometime.

It was Saturday's "alternative therapy" that had Dave curious. He had asked his mom about it, but she had just smiled and told him he'd have to wait and see. The fact that his mom was treating it like a special surprise and not just another happy-happy feel-good hug-a-thon (as he had dubbed the other therapies) kind of made Dave excited.

xoxoxo

Tuesday passed much the same as Monday. He saw Azimio at one point but both boys made it a point to avoid making eye contact. David was fairly certain that their friendship wouldn't be able to heal after what had happened.

He also ran into Kurt. _That_ had gone even worse.

David first noticed Kurt hugging Mercedes in the hall between third and fourth period. After their hug broke up, Kurt said one last thing to Mercedes causing her to laugh. Kurt blew her a kiss before walking away. Kurt stopped when he noticed Dave just sitting there watching him. "How was your first day back?"

"I think I've been adopted by your friends." Dave had said it rather sarcastically, but Kurt smiled widely.

"Yeah, they're pretty great." Dave hadn't considered what he said to be a compliment, but if Hummel wanted to take it as one, whatever. "So, are you having trouble getting around?"

"No, not really." Kurt walked alongside Dave, neither boy talking much. The tentative bond they had formed in the hospital seemed to have fizzled out significantly.

A couple McKinley athletes, neither football players nor hockey players, approached the two. Dave thought he recognized them from the baseball team, but not caring for that particular sport, he couldn't be certain. "Look-ee here. Haha, looks like Hummel got himself a boyfriend of the perfect height." The taller of the two made a lewd gesture at his crotch before his buddy picked up the joke.

"Suck any good cocks, lately, Karofsky?"

"Why the hell don't you two just drop dead?" Kurt stood between Dave and the two Letterman Losers. They both seemed to find Kurt's anger amusing. The taller one covered his fist with his mouth to stifle his laughter.

"You two make such a great couple! Hey Davey-boy, is it true what they say? You got Hummel's name engraved across your forehead?" He feigned a lunge at Kurt, but skirted around him at the last minute before swiping David's hat. The two jocks ran off down the hall, laughing like hyenas.

Dave put his head down, covering his exposed forehead with his hand. Kurt took off down the hall after the two but gave up when he realized how much faster they were than him.

Kurt kneeled next to Dave, and lowered his head so it was below Dave's knees. He tried looking up at Dave, but Dave's eyes were closed. Dave appeared to have shut himself off to the world, again. "Hey, Dave. Yoo-hoo. We'll find someone to lend you a hat. It'll be okay."

Dave looked up at Kurt, his hand not clenched so tightly over his forehead anymore. "I'm a complete pussy and a coward. I'm not used to anyone coming after me. How the hell do you deal with it all the time?"

Kurt chuckled nervously. "Not well, obviously, the first time I stood up to a bully, Finn had to save me, the second time you molested my mouth, and look how well this just turned out."

Dave let his hand drop to rest in his lap. He trusted Kurt: felt safe around him. Even in a wheelchair, Dave was infinitely stronger than Kurt, but still. Something about him just made him seem so much tougher. _Strength of character, maybe?_ Dave thought.

Kurt tried not to make any sound upon seeing Dave's scar for the first time. It looked like some twisted Halloween makeup. The skin was pale and puckered around the scar…_scars. _Black thread held the deeper portions of the wound together at odd intervals. Wherever the thread pierced the skin it was surrounded by a concentration of angry, reddish flesh. Parts of the scar had already healed closed and Kurt was positive a lot of it would eventually fade. But for the moment, it was very blatant what it read. Kurt didn't even like thinking the word, but the idea of having it carved into your body, especially someplace so _public_ was a bit mindboggling to Kurt.

Kurt wrapped his arms around Dave, while Dave began to sob gently. When he no longer felt the shuttering in Dave's breath he stood up and wheeled him to Mrs. Pillsbury-Howell's office.


	17. Floating

**Well, this is now officially three times longer than my senior thesis (Didacticism of Young Adult Literature with Respects to WWI: Activism v. Pacifism) in about 1/10****th**** the time.**

**LadyGayGay I would LUV to be the Shelby Corcoran to your Hiram and Leroy Berry, lol**

xoxoxo

As much as anger management had sucked, physical therapy was amazing! Dave hadn't known what to expect; it wasn't like he was ready to re-learning walking and writing and all those other motor skills he was going to lose over the next few months. But he certainly hadn't been expecting to go swimming at the Y. Swimming was one of Dave's favorite pastimes and it was yet another thing he had expected to give up, after all, he couldn't get his casts wet. But there he was in the pool with his therapist and giant cast-condoms over his arm and leg.

It gave Dave a chance to walk and flex his joints (except his elbow and knee which were stuck in place thanks to the casts). He could even kind of swim (kind of). His therapist gave him different sorts of activities to try, like alternating standing on each leg, walking (straight-legged of course), and rotating his arms. They even played "volleyball" with one of those light, inflatable beach balls.

Being out of the chair was amazing. He hadn't realized how sore his butt and back were from all that sitting, but the moment he was in the water, pains Dave hadn't known were there started dissipating.

Best of all, Andreas, his therapist, didn't treat Dave like an invalid at all. He reminded Dave of some of his teachers he had had in elementary school ("you can do it, it's okay if you try and fail, just so long as you try").

He was bummed when the hour was over, but reminded himself that this was a twice a week event. He felt fairly good about himself the entire way home and was still mildly euphoric from his small amount of exercise when he went to bed that night.

xoxoxo

Dave really wished he could continue riding that high from physical therapy the previous night, but the second he got back to school on Wednesday, things started going downhill. He was bored, irritable, depressed and worst off, he couldn't even finger why. Being in a wheelchair sucked, he couldn't deny that, but he hadn't crashed today or gotten stuck on anything. He desperately missed the hockey team and even the football team, but that wasn't specifically what was making him upset. He missed being friends with Azimio, but the two had gotten in fights that lasted longer than this, so that probably wasn't it; besides, he was still pissed at Azimio.

When Dave couldn't take it anymore, he retreated into the boys' bathroom near the school auditorium; it was away from classes, so he probably wouldn't run into anyone there. He parked in front of the mirror and just stared at himself for a while, hoping to have an epiphany to explain this low he was feeling. The bruising had mostly gone away around his eyes, his stitches would be ready to come out this weekend, his eyes were a little bloodshot from lack of sleep and his hair was getting a little long. He wondered if maybe that Quinn Fabray chick would be willing to show him how to use makeup to hide his scar; she was one of the few girls who wore makeup at McKinley without coming off looking like a clown or skank.

He had never spent so much time in front of a mirror. Even at junior prom he had simply soaped up his face and rinsed it off before pulling on a clean shirt and a rented tux. Eventually he gave up trying to figure out why he was so depressed and just slumped back in his chair.

The door opened not too long after and in waltzed Noah Puckerman. Dave had never had a beef with Puck; he even kind of respected the guy. Both were badasses in their own ways and both had been very crudely shoved in their places by society; Dave by Tony and Puck by the juvenile penal system. Though now that his probation was over, Puck was back to being a badass. Puck did his business at the urinal while Dave continued staring off into space.

When Puck came up to the sinks, he looked at Dave and nodded by way of greeting. "Sup man?"

Dave shrugged, "Just chillin.'"

Noah flicked the excess water off his hands before grabbing towels from the dispenser. Looking back and forth between Dave and one of the bathroom stalls he got a real nervous look. "You don't need, uh…help, do you?"

Dave snorted, it wasn't a pleasant laugh, but at least it was a moderate change in his mood. "Thankfully not. That would bring 'awkward' to a whole new level."

"So what's up? You look off." Puck wiped down the counter before hopping onto it and "pulling up a seat," so to speak.

Dave shrugged again, not entirely sure how to word what was going through his head. "Dunno, just in a funk I guess."

"I think you've just lost your mojo. You can't do any of the shit you used to do and no one's even afraid of you anymore."

Another less-than-pleased snort of laughter came from Dave "They're less than 'not afraid.' Fuckin' baseball players are picking on me now. _Baseball players! _The only ones lower than them on the coolness factor is the AV club and…Gleeks." He said the last part quietly, hoping not to offend Puck. But Puck just shrugged it off.

Puck quietly joined Dave in staring off into space for a minute before a large, foreboding smile played itself across his lips. "I got me an idea."

xoxoxo

Ten minutes later they were at the back of the school, near the track. Dave didn't feel quite right being back here, but if Puck's plan went according to plan, this place would be full of very happy memories. The remedial gym class was in the middle of the track. As usual, the gym teacher was nowhere to be seen and, as usual, the school's least athletic students were only pretending to do stretches and other various warm-ups.

Puck stood behind Dave, his hands gripped firmly on the chair. "Autopilot off?"

Dave flicked off the electronic controls of his chair, giving complete reign over to Puck. "Check."

"Parking brake off?"

Dave examined the little switch by his knee. "Check."

"Seatbelt on?"

Dave looped his thumb into the belt and tugged it to make sure it was completely fastened. "Check."

"5…4…3...2…hold on!" Puck took off pushing Dave and the chair at full speed towards the rejects sitting in the middle of the track, Dave laughed as he watched them get up and run. Puck aimed the chair at the ultimate loser: Jacob Ben Israel. Dave felt the teensiest bit of guilt when his cast struck Jacob in the back of the leg. No because he felt bad for the asshole. Mostly because Dave's parents would definitely hear about this; Israel belonged to the same temple his dad attended.

Dave noticed that the chubby chick from AV wasn't even trying to get away from them, but neither did Puck ever aim the chair at her. "Curiouser and curioser." Dave thought.

They continued "bowling for losers" by ramming Dave's cast into the backs of their legs. Puck was careful not to hit anyone too hard or with the chair itself, but teachers just don't seem to appreciate that kind of consideration.

Both boys were still cracking up fifteen minutes later while they waited outside Figgins' office.


	18. Flying

The hockey team was completely won over once word got around about what he and Puck had done. They hadn't ever abandoned him, but they had been treating him like something to be pitied. Not anymore. He was eating lunch with his old gaggle of guys (minus Azimio) when Kurt came over.

"Really Dave, really? After everything that happened, everything we went through, you're just going to go back to being your old asshole self? Did it ever occur to you that you and Puck could have _hurt_ someone?"

Dave put his sloppy joe aside and looked up at Kurt. Part of him wanted to win Kurt's approval, but part of him kept repeating what Kurt had said in the hospital. Fancy had made it pretty clear that they were never going to be a couple, so why should he care what he thought? "You shouldn't be surprised. As Coach Beiste would say "a lion can't change its spots."

Kurt got a disgusted look on his face; a cross between 'you've got to be kidding me' and 'someone please put you out of _my_ misery.' "It's _leopard_ genius."

"You never talked to Coach Beiste before, have you?" It was the new captain of the hockey team, Marshall who said that. Dave fist-bumped him before turning back to Hummel.

"I was just having a bonding experience with one of _your_ friends. I figured you'd be proud of me for 'widening my horizons.'" Dave made an arc in the air with his good hand, which Kurt was fairly certain was supposed to symbolize a rainbow.

"After all this, you're still a fucking Neanderthal. You know what? If it weren't for the fact that _you're_ gay, I have no doubt that you would have been right beside Tony on that field, probably carrying a goddamn torch and pitchfork. See you around Karofsky." Dave went back to eating his sloppy joe while his buddies changed the subject.

Dave kept a straight face while eating, trying not to let on how much what Kurt had said hurt. It reminded him of a quote from one of his favorite movies; "If I hadn't met you, I might have become you." Dave wondered just how true that was. Could he have turned out like Tony? Could he still? Not against gays, obviously, but against other people?

xoxoxo

When he was done sharing his life story with his new shrink that evening, he shared what Kurt had said to him. There was a lot of round talk between him and the therapist "Do _you_ think you have the capability to be that cruel?"

"I don't know, you tell me."

"No one can tell _you_ what's in _your_ heart"

"Then what the fuck is your purpose?"

Dave was starting to see the benefit of anger management.

xoxoxo

Dave expected that evening to be worse than lunch and much worse than therapy. Paul had, of course, found out about the 'bowling' incident and had been forced to beg the school not to suspend him. Given the events of the past two weeks, the school had been more than reasonable, but Dave knew he was skating on thin ice. _God how I wish that were literally true_. He missed hockey more and more each day. Especially since he was back in among the puck-heads. He loved hearing them talk about their games and practices, but at the same time, he couldn't stand it. It was ripping him apart inside.

Paul sat Dave down at the kitchen table. No mom this time. _Oh, great_.

"Dave, I had really been hoping that you would turn over a new leaf at school. Your grades from the first half of the year are atrocious, you nearly got expelled for bullying, and today you almost got suspended for assault. I want it to stop; I want this to _end_."

Dave got defensive again. The first time he had had fun at school in weeks and of course it leads to his dad have "a talk" with him. Talks with his dad were never good. "This whole year fucking sucks dad, why can't you see that? First I've got that fucking fag-"

"_David!"_

"-shaking his ass in front of the entire school, reminding me I'm a fucked-up freak."

Paul spoke firmly to David, not yet yelling, but desperately wanting to. Paul almost never yelled. "You are _not_ a freak David. Being gay is like being a brunette or having brown eyes. It's just the way you were born."

Dave completely ignored his dad, but part of his subconscious filed away his dad's support. "Then my grades go to shit because I can't concentrate and I just want to cry all the time." Paul had considered earlier on in the year that Dave was battling depression but had been frightened to bring it up: frightened that it would reveal even darker issues. "Then this shit with Tony… And this fucking _wheelchair_! And I'm supposed to start college next year. How the hell am I supposed to get into college without any kind of sports' scholarship?"

"Davey, I've done a lot of talking these past two weeks; to lawyers of course, but also to school officials and doctors. The world is not ending, David. Andreas says there is a very good chance that you _will_ be able to play again. Maybe even by next hockey season, _if_ you take care of yourself and are diligent with your therapy. No muscles were damaged, no nerves. Your arm and your leg will heal back stronger. It's your knee that you have to be concerned about, but there's a good chance that that will be fine as well."

_Why hadn't anyone thought to tell_ me _this_? "But it doesn't matter dad. D-1 headhunters will be looking at high school seniors, not college freshmen. If I don't play this year, my chances are non-existent. And I'm not going to have any good pick of colleges because of my grades. I'm surprised no one's talked about keeping me back." Paul didn't make eye contact with David. Instead, he folded his hands rather delicately and deliberately in his lap. "You're shitting me. They want to keep me back?"

"This isn't a _bad_ thing David. You'll get an opportunity to get your grades up, maybe get back on the team…fix all the mistakes you've made." Dave scratched at skin underneath the edge of his cast. _A chance to redo senior year?_ "It's only a year of your life Dave, but what you choose to do in this next year can affect you for the rest of your life. _It is at the end of a man's life when he realizes how important his decisions were at the beginning._"

Dave thought about it before looking up at his dad, an amused grin on his face. He had heard that quote before. "Has Miri been making you watch princess movies again?"

Paul chuckled and patted Dave's hand. Dave, in a much better mood than he had started the evening began wheeling away before Paul became serious again and stopped him. "David, one more thing…you aren't…_suicidal,_ are you?"

Dave thought about it earnestly. "No. Just _sad_ a lot."

Paul nodded. "I'm sure your therapist will help you with that."

Dave put on his best fake smile. "Fuck him and the horse he rode in on."

Paul rolled his eyes while Dave rolled away.

xoxoxo

The rest of the week passed much better than the first half had. Now that he had the hockey team's full support, the baseball players left him alone. And now that he knew he _would_ be able to play sports again, he felt in much better spirits. Plus on Thursday Andreas gave him an awesome massage that took care of most the tension in his neck and back. If he wasn't positive Andreas was straight, he may have considered proposing to him, that massage was so good.

Friday's group therapy was mostly a bunch of women crying about how horrible their lives sucked. He spent most the evening trying to ignore the estrogen, but when the director forced Dave to tell everyone why he was there, he couldn't help crying himself. It felt weird telling complete strangers about what had happened to him, but they had been very supportive. He even got a bunch of hugs. David loved hugs.

Saturday finally came and Dave was looking forward to a day of relaxation when his mother reminded him he had "alternative therapy" to attend. As excited as he had been earlier in the week to find out what it was, it was nine o'clock on a Saturday morning and he really just wanted to sleep.

Joseph helped his mom force him out of bed and helped him into his chair. It was really very easy to be passive aggressive about doing things when you were confined to a wheelchair.

The three drove together for about an hour before they pulled up to what looked like a large ranch. Dave smiled at all the horses. He had loved horses ever since reading the Narnia series as a kid. He had begged his parents for horseback riding lessons in middle school, but there hadn't been any place close enough to get lessons on any realistic basis.

Dave looked around; there were a lot of other people there, probably around twenty-five or so. Most of them were in riding gear, but a bunch were just in their regular junky clothes.

Those that weren't dressed in fancy riding clothes seemed a bit off. When he got closer, he realized most of them were very definitely _special_. The Down's syndrome ones were obvious; he was used to them because of that Becky chick that Coach Sylvester fawned over. There were very definitely other types of disorders there as well. One kid Dave was fairly certain had polio or something; at least, he had those strange arm crutches polio victims used to use.

His mother was ahead of him and Joe, approaching some young, perky blonde lady assisting a kid in a wheelchair. "Joe, what the hell is this place?"

Joe had both hands in his pockets and was rocking back and forth on his heels. He smiled down at Dave. "You're going to go riding."

"Do I _look_ like John fucking Wayne?" Dave said it jokingly. He couldn't possibly believe Joseph was being serious. He could barely get out of his chair, how was he going to mount a horse?

His mom headed back towards them with the blonde lady in tow. She stuck out her left hand; Dave was impressed. People usually stuck out their right hand, looked embarrassed and pulled it away. Occasionally they would return with their left hand. This lady was the first to get it correct on the first try. "I'm Shaunnesy, and I will be one of your instructors."

Dave laughed again. "This is serious, you think that _I'm_ going to be able to ride _that_." Dave pointed at a horse in a nearby corral.

The woman laughed, "Oh, no, of course not." Dave felt slightly disappointed even though he hadn't really been expecting to ride. "That's a Norwegian Fjord. They're tough, but not that tough. No, I think a Clydesdale would be better suited to a boy your size. Come on, I'll introduce you to Caesar."

Dave, Joseph and Joan followed along after Shaunnesy. She pointed out various places along the way, such as the stables, the woods and the riding paddocks. She occasionally stopped to introduce them to different volunteers. David was feeling somewhat elated with the entire experience. "So…how is this therapy, exactly? I just sit on a horse. Doesn't sound very therapy…_ish_."

"Riding forces you to subconsciously use various muscle groups to counterbalance against the horse's movements. You'll be getting to use muscles that may get neglected during your recovery period." She stopped to grab a giant leash off a pegboard before entering one of the horse corrals. "Get enough riding in and you might not even lose any of your muscle tone."

She came back after a few minutes with, David was fairly certain, one of the Budweiser horses. She had slipped the walking harness over the horse's head and led it directly to Dave. "This is Caesar, he'll be your riding buddy." Dave lifted his hand up and ran it down the horse's nose. He let his fingers linger between the two giant nostrils; it was softer than he had ever imagined.

His mother and brother left him with Shaunnesy and Caesar. Shaunnesy escorted both horse and boy to the stables where she groomed Caesar while she gave Dave the basics about horsemanship; the parts of the saddle, the general anatomy of a horse, the types of brushes and how they were used, etc. Dave still had no idea how he was going to ride, but he really couldn't have cared less. Just _being_ around Caesar made him feel better.

When they were done tacking the horse, Shaunnesy led them both into an indoor paddock. There were already other people saddled up in the center of the giant ring. A young girl, probably no more than sixteen took Caesar from Shaunnesy and walked him up beside a ramp. "That's Heather, she's going to be your side walker. She'll make sure you don't fall off Caesar." Shaunnesy walked up the ramp and waved Dave forward. _Does this lady ever stop smiling? Why would she, she has the best job in the world._

Dave wheeled up the ramp; there was another guy up there with a control box to what looked like some kind of crane. Hanging from the crane were two large leather loops. Shaunnesy slipped one of the loops around each of Dave's legs and handed him the chain they were connected to. "Hold tight, we're going to lift you onto Caesar, okay?" Dave nodded, a bit freaked out at the moment. He loved horses and animals in general. He did _not_ like his feet being off the ground. It was all over before he had a chance to have any kind of panic attack, though.

He sat atop Caesar, already understanding what Shaunnesy had been talking about when she had mentioned a horse "forcing" you to use muscles. He found himself constantly adjusting his hips in little ways to the left and right, forward and backward, anytime the horse shifted or breathed too heavily.

"Here you go David." Heather handed him the reins and showed him how to hold them one-handed. "Give Caesar a little squeeze with your legs and we'll get you to the center of the ring with the others."

Dave complied and Caesar lumbered forward with a deep step causing David to lurch forward slightly. Heather placed her hand over David's arm to steady him and they made their way into line next to a short palomino. Dave had thought Heather called it a "jalapeno" so, laughingly, they referred to it that way for the rest of the class.

After two hours, David had really gotten the hang of controlling the horse and was even finding a good seat on the horse. At several points he saw his mom through the gate at the end of the paddock watching him. She had a soft smile on her face; the same one she got when the trees got their leaves back each spring.

At the end of the class, Heather promised him next week would be less of an introduction to horses and more "fun and games." There were basketball hoops of various sizes around the paddock as well as short jumping fences, orange police cones, and a giant box of toys against the wall, so David took her word for it. Heather also told him that once the ground had solidified a bit more they'd be able to take the horses out onto the walking trails in the woods.

Dave smiled, between this and the news that he would get hockey back, everything was turning out pretty damned good.

xoxoxo

**Okay, the first quote ("If I hadn't met you, I might have become you") is from **_**Street Fighter**_** (Ken to Sagat).**

**The second quote ("It is at the end of a man's life when he realizes how important his decisions were at the beginning") is from **_**The Prince and Me**_** (King Haarald to Prince Edvard).**

**As for equine therapy, I used to do what Heather does before college got in the way. It's an absolutely amazing experience if you ever get the chance to volunteer. I was really nervous about working with special needs children, but you have **_**no**_** idea how rewarding it is until you've done it. Plus, horses kickass as well.**


	19. Pleas

Monday morning, Dave was navigating the halls on his way to second period when he spotted Kurt up ahead of him. He wheeled up to his side and stayed with him for a whole corridor, with Kurt ignoring him, before he spoke. "You were right, I was wrong. I'm a jerk and a Neanderthal, you're a sweetheart and a sophisticated fashionista."

Kurt wanted to smile but had to remind himself he was angry with Dave. He stopped and faced him, hating that he had to look down to look him in the eye. It was easier to be angry with Dave when Dave was taller than him. "Why did you do it? What did you really think you were going to achieve?"

Dave shrugged. "I dunno, it was just fun: a little bit of normalcy back."

Kurt turned away from him and continued walking, Dave wheeled along beside him. "Well when did you start bullying people? Something has to have started it, you weren't just born a bully."

"You're starting to sound like my anger management counselor." They stopped in front of Kurt's classroom. Kurt turned to face Dave again.

"You need to be careful. Next thing you know, you'll wind up in juvie like Puck. And, granted, I don't know much about juvenile detention centers, but I'm pretty certain you wouldn't fair too well. Especially with your scar."

"My dad and I already talked about my…behavior, last week. What Puck and I did, that was my last big 'hurrah'. I promised my dad I'd behave from now on."

Kurt smiled, "That's good. See you later, Dave." Dave smiled after Kurt before heading off to his own class.

xoxoxo

Paul sat on a stack of tire rims at Burt's shop. He spent a lot of time with Burt ever since that first horrible night at the hospital. At first, they just talked about the logistics of the upcoming trial, but they quickly became good friends. Today, however, Paul and Burt had to sacrifice talking about the impending Superbowl to discuss legal options.

"Mazzari's lawyer wants to enter an insanity plea. Eric apparently has a history of psychiatric treatment and they're prepared to have one of his former psychologists testify that he's mildly autistic."

Burt was changing the filter on an old Suburban. "And what would that mean, exactly?"

"Well, hypothetically, he could be found "not guilty by reason of mental defect" and just get off scot-free, or he could be found guilty and sentenced to a lesser penalty to be served in a mental institution."

Burt didn't like the sound of that. He put aside the old filter and wiped his hands down on an old rag. "What are the chances that his insanity plea will be accepted?"

Paul let out a short, choked laugh "You and I could head off to the jail and shoot all four of them point blank between the eyes and have a better chance of pulling off an insanity plea."

Burt considered that for a moment. He knew Paul was being sarcastic but he genuinely had considered getting his hands on a sniper rifle and positioning himself someplace inconspicuous outside the courthouse. He would never have the heart to go through with it, but the fantasy comforted him. "So what do you think?"

"Honestly?" Burt nodded. "There are still too many questions. How they knew where to find Kurt, who performed which actions, who was responsible for grabbing Kurt, who carved up Dave's face. Juries don't like questions. We need someone who can give us answers. I think that Eric kid is the least reprehensible of the four and the least culpable. I'd like to offer him a plea bargain in exchange for answers."

Burt shook his head violently. He didn't want any of these guys to get off with a lighter sentence. "We already know Tony was responsible for setting everything up, they caught him with the knife; he carved up Dave and slit Kurt's throat. "

Paul frowned and shook his head. "Speculation. We can't leave any doubt in the juries' minds."

Burt pulled up a box and sat. "You're absolutely positive this is what we want to do?"

Paul nodded, "Yeah, I think a plea is our safest bet."

xoxoxo

Eric Mazzari looked pale. His eyes were swollen and puffy but there was no color in the rest of his face. The orange prison uniform reflecting off his skin made him look jaundiced.

Paul sat between two prosecuting attorneys. He was generally a defense lawyer, but he had insisted on working with the prosecution. Twenty-five years as one of the best defense attorneys in Ohio and he was positive his knowledge of their opposition's strategies would be invaluable.

Eric had his hands folded in front of him on the table; he used the nail on one of his thumbs to pick at the cuticle on his other thumb nervously. One of the lawyers, Turner Jackson had asked him to tell the entire story in his own words.

"It was Thursday, I think. We were all hanging out. Hayden told us that Azimio had told him Karofsky was a queer. We all knew Karofsky; we had done sports with him. Tony and Hayden were the most pissed. Tony started screaming about how Karofsky had seen all of us naked in the locker-room and we had all been alone with that homo. I don't know if you've noticed, but Dave's pretty fucking tough. He could force himself on anyone he wanted at anytime. Cris was the reasonable one. He said there was no way Karofsky would ever choose to be gay and that the other fag must have turned him."

Paul found himself having to take deep breaths in order to not lunge across the table and punch Mazzari square in the jaw.

"Tony agreed with Cris. It's like a disease, like aids. You have to cut it off before it spreads. That's why we decided to kill them. It was supposed to be a mercy killing."

The second prosecuting attorney, Sharon Noclus, raised her chin slightly. "If it were meant to be a mercy killing, what was the point of torturing them?"

Mazzari shrugged and watched as his thumb bled. "That Hummel whore had to suffer for fucking up Karofsky. And Karofsky had to be subdued, we wouldn't have been able to hold onto him if we didn't break his leg."

Paul wasn't liking that response. "What about carving 'faggot' into his head? What was the purpose of that?"

Eric started chewing on his thumb, pulling off the loose skin with his teeth. "We were gonna do that to the Hummel fag at first. But then Dave told us _he_ was the one spreading the disease. After they were dead, people would have to know why they died, so that other queers would know what happens if they don't keep the disease to themselves."

Paul stood up and left, he couldn't take it anymore. He sat outside on a wooden bench while he waited for Sharon and Tucker to finish up. He wanted answers, but he wasn't willing to listen to that boy's warped thinking any longer. Tucker came out about five minutes later, leaving Sharon alone with Mazzari and Mazzari's lawyer.

"How are you holding up, Paul?" Tucker sat down next to him.

Paul shook his head before leaning it in his hands. "He could probably pull off an insanity plea."

"I think he's just playing the part of a naïve, impressionable bigot." Paul just shrugged so Tucker continued. "Paul, I don't think you should be _quite_ so involved. The trial itself is going to be difficult enough. Why don't you step back a bit and let Sharon and I handle this?"

Paul shook his head again. "Absolutely not. This is my boy we're talking about here. I can't _not_ be involved. If I could, I'd be judge, jury, and executioner as well."

Tucker placed a hand on Paul's shoulder, "If you are emotionally stripped by the time the trial starts you won't be any good to anyone." Paul was shaking his head again, but Tucker wouldn't let him speak. "You can be involved all you want, Paul. But be involved in the _right_ way. David's going through a lot right now: be there for him, Paul. You've already re-distributed all your cases, so take some time off and spend some time with David. Hell, spend some time with your other four kids while you're at it. I'm sure with everything going on they must be feeling pretty neglected: especially Miriam and Jennifer. Both of them are in middle school, right?" Paul nodded. "That's a really hard age… _especially_ for girls. Go home, Paul. Sharon and I will keep you in the loop." Tucker stood up and straightened his jacket before going back inside.

Paul stayed on the bench for a while longer before going home.


	20. Tribal Customs

Kurt was scrubbing down some dishes in the kitchen. He liked the kitchen to be clean _before_ they started eating dinner. It just made everything so much easier after dinner. It was Tuesday night, but Carol had seen to it that family dinners occurred much more frequently than once a week, especially now that Kurt was back living at home.

Carol came in to check on her meatloaf and smacked Kurt playfully with one of the dishrags as she passed him. Kurt smiled fondly at her and scooped up some soap suds from the sink. He blew them across his palm and when Carol turned back around she was met by a cloud of bubbles. Carol smiled and pulled Kurt into a big hug. "We missed you so much when you were at Dalton."

Kurt returned the hug, careful not to get his wet hands on her. "You have no idea how much I missed _you_ guys."

Carol, her head buried between Kurt's neck and shoulder, kissed him just beneath his ear. She pulled back slightly and Kurt could feel her fingers brush across his neck. "Your scar healed up already."

That took Kurt by surprise. He pulled away from her hug and ran his hands over where he knew the scar to be. It should have been located just below his shirt collar. It then occurred to him where Carol had touched his neck. "Oh, no. That's an old scar. I've had _that_ one for ages."

Carol nodded, somewhat embarrassed. "Carry the mashed potatoes to the dining room for me?" Kurt snatched a pair of potholders and grabbed up the potatoes.

Twenty minutes later Kurt, Burt, Finn and Carol were eating and talking about their respective weeks. Finn was still excited about McKinley's staggering win from the week before and talking about how badly they were going to cream their opposition on Friday.

Kurt tried steering Finn towards glee, a mutual interest, but Finn kept dragging the conversation right on back to football. Finally Burt picked up on the fact that Kurt really had absolutely no interest in the game, so tried steering the conversation in another direction. "Paul came by the shop again today."

Carol smiled up at him over a bite of green beans "How is he?"

"Stressed. His lawyer buddies are making him take a backseat in the trial and he isn't liking it one bit."

Kurt scooped up the gravy from the center of the table. "I can't blame them. You know what they say, 'He who is his own lawyer has a fool for a client.'"

Burt nodded at that. "Even still, I don't think Paul likes being muscled out of his own business. Especially when his kid is involved. Anyway, Paul says Joan wants us all over for dinner tomorrow night."

Carol smiled, Finn looked entirely ambivalent, and Kurt looked mildly terrified. Karofsky in the hospital he had mastered. Karofsky at school he had kind of figured out. But Karofsky on his own home turf? This should be interesting.

xoxoxo

Kurt found Dave the next morning before first bell in the hall with one of his hockey friends and Finn. They were laughing and joking around, probably about guy stuff: a world Kurt would never fully understand. He walked up to them and, upon his saying "hi" they all turned and looked at him.

"Hey Kurt, this is Marshall. He does hockey with Dave and basketball with me. Marshall, this is Kurt, my stepbrother." Finn took the lead in introductions, gesturing to each boy as he introduced him.

"Actually, we met at lunch the other day. He was giving my boy Dave a hard time about bowling out on the track." Marshall watched Kurt but directed his comments at Finn.

Kurt nodded. "Mm…I was simply informing Dave that it was childish, immature, and dangerous."

Finn smiled at Marshall and Dave before turning back to Kurt. "It was pretty funny though."

"Oh dear god, Finn. You jocks have the most primeval sense of humor. Anyway _Dave_," Dave immediately dropped the smirk from his face. Despite the numerous lectures he had received, he still thought the whole incident was pretty funny. "I'm assuming your father told you that Finn and I would be joining you for dinner tonight?"

"Ummm…actually, Kurt. I'm not going." Kurt head shot in Finn's direction, his eyes wide. "I have football practice until six and dinner's at 5:30. I'd have to get showered, get clean clothes. I'd probably get there just in time to help load the dishwasher."

Kurt was flabbergasted. He had to remind himself that this wasn't the old Karofsky…not entirely anyway. Besides, what's the worse that could happen? _He could run me over with his wheelchair_. Finn, afraid of the look of horror Kurt had just given him, took Kurt's temporary stupor as a chance to escape.

"Yeah, my dad told me. My mom's really looking forward to seeing you again. She says you're 'a good influence on me' or something." Dave adjusted the rim of his hat while smiling up at Kurt. Kurt subconsciously ran his hand through his perfectly styled hair.

"I guess I'll see you around five then."

"Yeah, I guess so."

Kurt was about to leave when Marshall smacked Dave on the arm. Dave stuttered for a moment. "Hey, ummm, ah…Kurt." _It's like talking to Tina last year, around this boy sometimes_, Kurt thought. "I was wondering, um…if you'd like to maybe, uh…joinmeatmytableforlunch?" Kurt stared at him blankly for a minute trying to decipher Dave's ineloquence.

When he finally realized what Dave had said, he wasn't quite certain how to respond. "Uh…sure? I guess…" He looked nervously over his shoulder, feeling slightly trapped.

Dave instantly seemed to relax. Marshall smiled and nodded at Kurt. As Kurt walked away he was positive he could hear the slapping sound of a high five.

xoxoxo

Kurt wasn't sure why he felt so anxious on his way to Dave's table. Was it bad anxiety? Did some part of him expect the hockey team to mass-slushie him? Or was it good anxiety? Was Dave's pathetic puppy-dog affection for him beginning to become endearing? Kurt smiled softly to himself; it felt great to be wanted, even if it felt horrible that he didn't return those feelings.

Dave sat at the head of the table. It was the only place he _could_ sit because of his chair, but seeing Dave in the symbolic position of power just seemed right. When he spotted Kurt coming, Marshall motioned for some of the boys sitting near Dave to scoot down in order to give Kurt room.

Kurt placed his homemade chicken Caesar salad down in front of him on the table before doffing his messenger bag and sitting down. The hockey players all introduced themselves, some in a friendlier manner than others. Kurt remembered perhaps no more than three of the names and wasn't entirely certain he could match it to the correct boy, but he doubted there would be any kind of quiz later.

One of the boys, one far too blonde for his skin tone, with eyebrows that didn't match by any stretch of the imagination smiled lewdly at Kurt. "So this is the one that's taking our little Davey out on his first real date?" Several of the hockey players laughed at his condescending tone. Even Dave was smiling. "I think we would like to know _exactly_ what your intentions are with our Davey before we let you two boys have your fun."

Marshall, who was sitting next to the boy, shoved him playfully prompting the boy on the other side to shove him back. Kurt was actually afraid a fight might start before he realized everyone was still smiling or laughing. _Lord help me, they are _all _Neanderthals. _

"David's _mother_ invited me and my _entire_ family over for dinner at David's house. This is _not_ a date and I have no intention of allowing _anything_ to happen."

The jock sitting next to Kurt elbowed him jovially in the arm. "Sure, whatever you say." Kurt rolled his eyes.

The blonde spoke up again. "We just want to know if we should arrange a chaperone between you two. The last thing we need is Princess here getting knocked up." Kurt rolled his eyes again before grabbing his salad and bag. Even trying to be friendly, the jocks in this school had a way of making you feel like crap. As he stood up to go, Dave grabbed his arm.

Kurt turned around and glared down at Dave. Dave took his hand away from him and placed his elbow on the table, leaning his chin into the palm of his hand and smiling up at Kurt. "They aren't making fun of you."

"I _don't_ like being called princess."

Marshall looked confused for a second. "No one called _you_ Princess."

Now it was Kurt who looked confused "Excuse me?"

The blonde kid, looking decently embarrassed for having made Kurt feel uncomfortable made eye contact with him. "Princess is our nickname for Dave. We used to call him 'Your Majesty' back when he was captain because he was so pushy and demanding, but now that he's not captain anymore, he's just 'Princess.'"

Kurt looked down at Dave for confirmation. Dave was still smiling up at Kurt. "You _let_ them call you Princess?"

Dave shrugged. "I get called a lot of things. Personally, I like 'Neanderthal' and 'the Fury' the best. But, you're the only one who calls me Neanderthal and Gunnar" Dave nodded towards the blonde boy "told me being gay and having a fist named 'the Fury' might be found more amusing than intimidating."

Kurt put his stuff back down, tentatively reclaiming his seat. "It's derogatory calling a homosexual 'princess.'"

Marshall still looked confused. "But we don't call him that because he's gay. It has nothing to do with that."

"If _I _could misconceive it as being derogatory towards his sexuality, don't you think other people might as well?"

Marshall pondered that for a moment, before conceding. "Fine." He dipped his fingers into his slushie. "David Isaac Karofsky, I Marshall Zane, Captain of the William McKinley High School varsity hockey team, re-christen you 'The Neanderthal.'" With that, Marshall pulled his fingers out of his drink and flicked the blue syrup in David's face. Dave didn't seem at all put off by the gesture.

Kurt was astounded. He felt like an anthropologist observing the religious rites of some previously undiscovered tribe. He didn't think half of them would understand what the hell he was talking about, so he simply said, "You guys are weird."

xoxoxo

**The opening about Kurt's scar is only because I re-watched "Grilled Cheesus" last night and noticed a very precise scar below Kurt's (rather, Chris Colfer's) ear on the left side, about two inches below his ear and about 1 ½ inches long. 1000 internets to anyone who can tell me what that scar might be from.**


	21. Awkwardness

**Sorry for the brief hiatus. I lost my muse for a few days and then went into hibernation mode before I had to go back to school today. Plus, every time I played this in my head, there was just so much I wanted to get right, that I was terrified that if I wrote it down I would somehow mess it up (don't worry, I did, as expected). Hey, but at least it's a lot longer than my usually chapters.**

xoxoxo

Kurt hadn't had any preconceived ideas of what to expect when he got to Dave's house, yet he still couldn't help being surprised that Dave lived, almost literally, in the middle of nowhere. He didn't know that there were parts of Lima this rural. As they drove through the woods and up the Karofsky's driveway, Kurt began singing a familiar tune in his head. _Over the river and through the woods, to Neanderthal's house we go…_

Burt pulled up to the front of the house. The driveway was unpaved and the entire front yard was a smattering of gravel and random patches of grass, so they couldn't much tell the difference between the front yard and the driveway. Kurt got out of the car first, taking a wide perspective of the entire area. There were several houses other than Dave's within sight. All were done in the dollhouse-like Queen Anne style. Kurt knew from his time in the hospital with Dave that they all belonged to the Karofsky clan. Surrounding the houses was a vast expanse of flat grassy land, which in turn was surrounded by a gorgeous deciduous forest.

By the time Kurt was done examining the woods and the fields, Burt and Carol were already on the porch. Kurt followed after, examining the wheelchair ramp as he walked up it. Someone had had the foresight to adhere rough, anti-slip friction strips on the ramp. It was a good thing, too, because the snow still hadn't fully melted and the entire earth was still wet and muddy and slippery.

When Burt pushed the doorbell, the bark of a dog resounded from inside the house. Dave's littlest sister, Miriam, was the one to open the door. She stared up at them with her big chocolaty eyes for a minute before disappearing back inside the house, "David! Your boyfriend's here!" As Miriam left the doorway, she was replaced by a short, fluffy, black dog. Sadie immediately ran outside and started sniffing everyone excitedly.

The dog was sniffing at Kurt's shoes when Dave's brother, Joseph, came out. "Hey! Come on in; my parent's are expecting you." The three Hummel-Hudsons followed Joe inside while exchanging the appropriate pleasantries.

Kurt's first impression of the house's interior was that it was very dark: rich, hardwood floors, dark paneled walls, deep, rich chestnut furniture. The front door opened immediately onto the stairs leading up to the second floor. To the right of the stairs was a large open family room. Judging by the size and abundance of bay windows in the family room, Kurt was positive that during the day the house would be as bright and airy as it was dark at the moment. To the left of the stairs was a doorframe. Kurt couldn't see into it though because someone had affixed a thick red curtain over it.

At the rear of the family room was a doublewide doorframe leading to, what appeared to be, the dining room. Paul came through and approached them, his hand extended well before he was within shaking distance. Burt closed the gap and took Paul's hand firmly between both of his. "Hello, Burt."

"Evening, Paul."

Paul moved down the line taking Carol's hand and then Kurt's. Paul's handshake was firm, but not "viselike" as the stereotype goes. Behind him, Dave wheeled into the room followed by Jenny. As Dave wheeled up beside Paul, he glanced down and then back at the group. "I have a few more things to take care of in the kitchen. Dave here will entertain you."

Joan came in a moment later and dragged Carol off for a tour of the house. Joseph then took Burt out to the garage to show him his "baby:" a reconstructed 1960's roadster.

Kurt and Dave sat in awkward silence for a few minutes. Jennifer was the one to break the silence, but not the awkwardness. "You look like that chick from _Boys Don't Cry_."

Dave, embarrassed by his sister, groaned and dropped his head into his hand. From within his hand, Kurt could hear Dave's muffled voice. "Who let you watch that movie?"

Jennifer, sitting in a large armchair across from Kurt, her arms crossed over her chest and the pinched, arrogant look on her face reminded Kurt of Santana's "bitch face." "Mom did. She thought it would be a good way to explain what happened to you guys."

Dave looked at her over the tips of his fingers. Kurt could make out his eyebrows, arched in disbelief. "Yeah, except I'm not a tranny and I didn't get raped or murdered."

Jennifer shrugged and got up. "Whatever, almost. If you did, I get your room." With that, Jennifer left the two boys and went upstairs.

Kurt and Dave watched each other for a moment. Kurt folded his hands in his lap before speaking. "Well, she's…"

"A brat?" Kurt nodded in response. "We're hoping it's a phase. Either that or she's turning into me."

The two let the silence sink back in around them. Dave was staring off into space towards the front door. Kurt wondered if Dave was debating making a break for it. _Not half a bad idea._ Kurt thought.

xoxoxo

Kurt was seated next to Dave at the table, across from Burt and Carol. Joseph sat on Kurt's other side with Joan and Paul between him and Burt. At the other end of the table sat Miriam and Jennifer, lost in their own little conversation.

Paul placed a slice of lasagna on Kurt's plate while Joseph passed him a pitcher of soda. Kurt looked confusedly at the meal for a second. Dave apparently caught the way Kurt was looking down at the dish. He leaned in towards Kurt, whispering, "If you're vegetarian, or something, just say."

Kurt shook his head. Matching Dave's whisper, he responded, "It's not that, I love lasagna. I just thought that…Jews couldn't have meat and cheese at the same meal."

Both Dave and Joseph started laughing. When the rest of the table looked their way, Joseph spoke up looking at Kurt. "The closest we get to keeping kosher is hiding the ham when grandpa Murray and grandma Vivian come for visits."

The rest of the table went back to their own conversations. Dave smiled over at Kurt. "Do I honestly look like the kind of guy who would say 'no' to any kind of food?" Kurt opted not to answer that. "If I kept kosher, I wouldn't be able to eat marshmallows, skittles, or McDonalds."

Kurt put his fork down mid-bite. "Why not skittles?

It was Joseph who responded this time. "The gelatin used in it is rendered from animal by-products."

Kurt looked mildly disgusted before a smile slowly spread over his lips. Dave, in return, smiled fondly at Kurt. "You look positively devious, Hummel. What's up?"

"Rachel _loves_ skittles."

Dave was confused for a moment before he remembered she belonged to his temple. "Berry keeps kosher?"

Kurt swallowed his bite of lasagna and turned to look Dave in the eye. "Even better, she's vegan."

Dave thought about that a moment. As his brain translated what Kurt had said, a light of realization came over him. "You have to tell her Kurt. She's your friend, isn't she?"

Kurt shrugged and ate another bite of his lasagna. "I'll tell her…eventually…"

The rest of dinner passed much the same, with no one talking about anything serious or earth shattering. When dinner ended, Dave's sisters retreated to their bedroom and Joseph went out to the garage. The adults all migrated to Joan's sunroom and Kurt made to follow along, but Dave grabbed his wrist. "I need to talk to you, Kurt." Kurt examined Dave's expression for a moment, deciding his look was too pensive for him to be up to trouble.

Kurt followed Dave out of the dining room, through the family room and to the scarlet curtain. By the time Kurt passed through the curtain, David had already parked his chair alongside his bed and hoisted himself up onto it. The headboard of Dave's bed was a series of three drawers. While Dave began rifling through them, Kurt explored Dave's "room." He had posters tacked up around the walls of athletes from different sports and different teams. There were football and hockey posters of course, but there was also a soccer "Got Milk" ad and some posters of drag racers. Kurt found himself drawn to one particular poster. It was a very handsome young man, fair skinned and dark haired wearing a hockey uniform. Kurt examined the uniform more closely. It had an Indian's head on it. "This guy doesn't play for your team." From behind him, Kurt could hear Dave grunt out a "huh?" "Your team has a red disk with an angel wing overlaying it. Not an Indian head."

Kurt turned back towards Dave who shrugged. "Red Wings are my favorite team. But that's Jonathan Toews of the Blackhawks. He's my favorite player."

"Uh, huh. I'm sure it has nothing to do with how nice he is on the eyes." Kurt looked around the room again. All the posters in Dave's makeshift bedroom were of male athletes, and all of them, what Kurt would consider "attractive." "Your parents had absolutely no clue you were gay?" Dave chuckled. "I mean, seriously, not even a hint? A vague idea?"

"None that they ever let on." Dave was leaning back against his headboard. He was holding something in his lap. Kurt, sensing it was the reason Dave had brought him in here approached the side of the bed. Dave handed him the object wrapped up in a winter scarf. "I wanted to apologize. For everything."

Kurt unwound the scarf, revealing the object within. He sat down on the edge of the bed, his back towards David, clutching the wedding cake topper closely to his chest. "Thank you. This was from my parents' wedding. I didn't think I'd ever see it again."

Kurt didn't look back at Dave, but heard his question well enough. "I thought I took it before the wedding?"

Kurt brushed a loose tear from the corner of his eye while shaking his head. "My dad and my real mom's wedding." Kurt had pulled the doll out of storage to inspire him for Burt and Carol's wedding. And also to steal a bit of his mother's strength.

"I'm really sorry, Kurt." Kurt felt the bed shift and Dave put his hand on Kurt's arm. Kurt turned around to face him, prepared to be angry with him, prepared to yell at him about how he could apologize all he wanted but that it wouldn't change all the bullying, all the name calling, locker shoving, tears. Instead, he turned around and was met by the eyes of a boy as broken as himself. Kurt had no way of knowing, but every time Dave had shoved him, Dave had felt that same pain; every time Dave called Kurt a name, it stung him just as sharply, possibly more so because Kurt had always been so comfortable in his own skin. The hateful names that Dave had called Kurt, he had been calling himself. For each time Kurt had cried because of Dave, Dave had cried himself to sleep. Kurt couldn't see any of those truths in Dave's eyes, but he could see the pain there.

Kurt put the wedding doll aside and reached out to Dave. He ran his hand down his cheek. Dave didn't move, didn't blink, didn't breath. He was too afraid of scaring Kurt away with any sudden movements. The knuckle of Kurt's finger traced Dave's stubble from the edge of his jaw to the front of his chin.

Kurt placed his hands on the pillows on each side of Dave. In a single, fluid movement, Kurt leaned forward and pressed his lips to Dave's. From Dave's perspective, it was the most surreal experience of his life. Kurt seemed to come at him in slow motion; Dave was hyper aware of every movement Kurt made, down to the muscles shifting beneath his skin. But at the same time, he came so fast and unexpectedly that Dave didn't even have time to draw his breath.

Kurt lined their lips up perfectly, head slightly tilted to avoid any unsightly nose-mashing. It was a soft, delicate kiss: polar opposite of that first desperate, needy kiss. Dave had crushed Kurt against his lips in the locker-room, so terrified of losing his only chance. Now, Kurt tentatively tickled Dave's lips with his own, for some reason afraid of damaging the stronger boy. They parted after a moment. To Kurt, it was what a first kiss _should_ be like: gentle and whispery, as though it were designed by Walt Disney, himself. Kurt looked down at Dave, not entirely sure if he were welcome like this or not. Dave breathed in, his chest rattling softly as he did.

Simultaneously, Dave lifted his head up towards Kurt's while Kurt lowered his lips to Dave's. The kiss wasn't so perfectly placed this time. Kurt's lips made contact with the corner of Dave's mouth, but that deterred neither boy. Dave turned his head to meet Kurt's lips fully, Kurt in turn, took Dave's lower lip softly between both of his lips. Dave, regaining control of his senses, added a touch of force to the kiss, pressing himself into the kiss. Kurt allowed his lips to part slightly; David, having been taught since childhood to always take advantage of an open goal, slid his tongue into Kurt's mouth. It was a first for both boys. Both had shared their first kisses with Brittney, both had shared their first guy kiss with each other and now, they were sharing their first tongue kiss together.

Kurt could feel the tip of Dave's tongue sliding up the side of his own. When it had reached the tip, Kurt returned the gesture, entirely unsure of how to kiss like this and taking his lead from the equally unsure David. Kurt didn't much care that they were both ridiculous amateurs at this: it felt good, tasted good, and made the _rest_ of his body feel good. If kissing could be this good, he wanted more: more touch, more sensation, more taste. With Dave busy exploring Kurt's mouth, Kurt decided it was a good time to have two fully functioning arms and hands and felt mildly bad for Dave, confined to his one good arm that he was using to keep Kurt from rolling off of him.

Kurt straddled Dave and lowered one of his hands to the hem of Dave's polo, where shirt met trousers and both parted to reveal flesh. Kurt ran his fingertips over the area of skin just above Dave's hip, his external oblique. Dave's breath caught as he tried to stifle a giggle; it was a sensitive area on him but he was loathe to tell Kurt that. Kurt's hand continued northward under the cotton fiber, finding next Dave's ribs. Remembering that Dave had broken several ribs, Kurt shifted his weight off of Dave's right side. As his hand continued its never-ending journey, Kurt could feel the sudden change between the bones of Dave's ribcage and the muscles of his pecks. He wondered briefly why Dave wasn't wearing a chest cast but decided his curiosity really wasn't worth ruining the mood.

Dave, who had previously had his hand loosely crooked around Kurt's lower back, decided to do some exploring of his own. Kurt may have been intent on fondling Dave's man-boobs, but Dave was definitely interested in copping a feel of Kurt's ass. When his hand found the top of Kurt's pants, he slipped just the tips of his fingers beneath the too-tight fabric. Feeling Kurt tense on top of him, he decided that perhaps that anything south of the border might be pushing his luck just a tad bit and let his hand navigate _over_ the clothes down towards Kurt's butt. He ran his hand over the curve of Kurt's ass cheek before squeezing lightly.

Kurt, meanwhile, had found Dave's all-too elusive nipple. Kurt almost couldn't believe how perfectly smooth Dave's nipple was. It was nearly completely camouflaged texture-wise with the skin around it. Dave, very much enjoying the little tweaks Kurt's was giving to his titty removed his hand from Kurt's butt (with every intention of returning in a moment's time) and brought it between him and Kurt to his opposite hip. Kurt stopped suckling on Dave's tongue for a moment, terrified that Dave was trying to make a grab for his crotch, but relaxed when he felt Dave pull the hem of his shirt up. Kurt leaned up for a moment, allowing Dave to completely remove his shirt. It took a moment to get it over the cast, but, to Kurt, it was well worth the wait.

Dave could have been the poster boy for muscle cubs; beautiful broad chest, nicely defined muscles, but not at all overbearing, gorgeous thick black chest hair that was anything but unruly. Kurt was very much enthralled with Dave's chest hair. Kurt for the life of him couldn't imagine what guys saw in hairless twinks like him; no hair on a guy's chest made him look prepubescent and anything but attractive. But no, Dave had the perfect amount of chest hair. It started just on top of the "V" that forms the expanse between the collarbones, thinning out as it profiled his pecks and ringed his nipples, and then thickening between his pecks. The forest of black silk continued down in the line between his pecks to where it nearly faded over his solar plexus. As it continued downwards it began to fan out again. The way it started thickly between Dave's abs and then curved upwards into arcs on either side reminded Kurt of a palm frond.

As Kurt had expected, Dave's perfect little pink nipples were completely flat against his skin save for the tiny nub in the center. Centered on the bottom half of Dave's right nipple was a tiny brown freckle. Kurt had the overpowering urge to lick it, but restrained himself until he was done memorizing Dave's chest. Below his right nipple, just over the base of his ribs, Dave had a second freckle, this one a small purple circle that started plum in the center and faded until it was a light, dusty rose. Other than that, Dave's chest was completely unblemished. As endearing as Kurt found Dave's beauty marks on his check, he had been mildly worried that Dave would be covered in them.

Dave, impatient with Kurt's gawking, cupped his hand behind Kurt's neck and pulled him back forward for a kiss. Kurt complied, for a moment, before wandering his mouth over to Dave's jaw line. The incredible texture change between the softness of Dave's lips and the roughness of his stubbly cheek was a surprising turn-on for Kurt. He loved the idea of having a rugged man but at the same time didn't want to kiss sand paper. Dave was the best of both worlds. Kurt ran his tongue over Dave's lower lip again before he remembered someplace else he wanted his tongue to be.

Kurt shimmied down Dave's torso until he was eye level with Dave's nipples. Kurt took one between his fingers and the other between his lips. He twisted and pulled Dave's nipple deftly between his thumb and forefinger while occasionally darting his tongue out to tease the tip of Dave's other nipple. Kurt, getting more adventurous by the minute took the tip between his teeth and tugged gently. Dave pulled in a ragged breath and held it. Kurt, concerned he had gone too far and hurt Dave pushed himself back towards his head. Kurt kissed the skin just in front of Dave's ear and trailed a line of kisses back down to Dave's lips. He could feel Dave's hand in the small of his back, stroking small lines up and down his tailbone.

Kurt slid his tongue back into Dave's mouth for a moment before pulling away and kissing Dave's throat, just above his Adam's apple. Kurt honestly couldn't believe making out could be this truly amazing: so wonderful, so passionate, so tantalizing, so delicious…

And of course, Dave, as usual, had to open his mouth and ruin everything. "I love you…"

Kurt pulled away from Dave, his eyes wide. Dave's eyes fluttered open and met Kurt's. Once again, he could quite literally feel his heart breaking. He hadn't seen anyone look that shocked or pained since Kurt had shoved Dave off him in the locker room.

_Ah, fuck_ Dave thought

_Oh, fuck_ Kurt thought

xoxoxo

**A good part of this chapter is dedicated to PowerLad for their comment "****I am concerned however with this extreme knowledge of the Topography of one Mr. Kurt Hummel's skin." Well guess what, PowerLad? My descriptions of one Mr. David Karofsky's skin are **_**far**_** more accurate than my descriptions of Kurt's skin. If anyone wants a sex-tacular topless pick of Max Adler playing with a super-sweet baby puppy, e-mail me.**

**The rest of the smut is dedicated to LadyGayGay for keeping on top of me with my writing.**


	22. Ice Cream

**I'm sure I'm going to get lynched for this chapter, but don't worry, as the Max Adler bullying video says, "It gets better."**

**Also, tonight's my first night back at grad school (oh, the horror), so updates will be weird (several in one night, then none for several nights, some short, some massive, etc.).  
**

xoxoxo

Kurt felt horrible. Kissing Dave had been a mistake: an impulsive, spur of the moment, stupid mistake. He had fled the bedroom after David had said those three terrifying words. He went back to his parents in the sunroom and did his best to pretend that nothing had happened. He joined in on their conversations, laughing and smiling as appropriate; he went through all the required motions that the discussion topics necessitated. Dave joined them fifteen minutes later, his shirt back on. Dave went through the same ill-choreographed gestures that Kurt himself was faking. Kurt desperately hoped that he was pulling off "being at ease" better than David.

The next day at school was no better; Dave pointedly ignored him. Kurt wanted to reach out to him, to explain that it had just been a moment of lust. Kurt didn't love Dave. Dave was his friend…sort of. Honestly, Dave still frightened Kurt. He couldn't predict Dave's moods and didn't fully trust him yet. He kept waiting for the shock of what had happened to wear off and the old Dave - David "The Fury" Karofsky – to return. Kurt shouldn't have feared Dave, though. Oh, no. Dave wanted nothing to do with Kurt at the moment. Kurt really should have been worried about Dave's friends.

He was at his locker, trading out his math book for his French book. It was his easiest class and he could more or less shut down and do it on autopilot and no one would notice. Even Dalton's advanced French course had been a cakewalk to Kurt. As he shut his locker and turned around, Marshall was there, flanked by Gunnar and another hockey player. _How do they do that? Does the hockey coach make them practice creeping up on people?_

Marshall had his arms folded, his head cocked to the side. "Do you know why no one messes with you, anymore, Hummel?" He didn't give Kurt a chance to answer. "It isn't because the school all of a sudden likes you or anything. Or even that they feel bad about what happened to you. We" he gestured to himself and his lackeys. "have your back. For whatever reason, our buddy Dave likes your pussy little ass." He stepped closer; Kurt stepped back. "I don't know what the hell happened between you two last night, but I advise you to stay in Davey-boy's good graces, or you _will_ fall out of ours." With that, the three performed a near-militaristic about-face and headed off away from Kurt, as though nothing had happened.

Kurt stared after them, not sure how to react. He looked down at his watch, confirming that it was third period. Dave would be in study hall. Kurt went to Mrs. Camptiro's room; hovering in the doorway, just out of her sight and within the line of David's. When Dave finally looked up, Kurt crooked a finger at him. Dave wheeled up to the teacher and excused himself. When they were alone in the hall, Dave looked up at Kurt. His eyes were full of all the pain Kurt had seen in them the previous night, plus whatever pain Kurt had added to Dave's misery. The rest of his face, however, was as expressive as stone. Kurt didn't know what to say, so he just opened his mouth and let the words fall out. "I'm sorry. I don't know what happened last night." Dave kept quiet, staring into Kurt's eyes, so he continued. "You were there and just…everything seemed…right. But it was so _wrong_. I don't love you, Dave. I wish I could, but I don't."

Dave turned his head away, mentally scrolling through Kurt's words. He had assumed that's what had freaked Kurt out. "What's your favorite ice cream?"

Kurt was a bit thrown off by that. "Excuse me?"

"Just…humor me. What's your favorite ice cream?"

Kurt wondered if maybe Dave was trying to bond with him, hoping that if they knew more about each other, Kurt would come to love him. "Cookie dough."

Dave nodded, seemingly approving of Kurt's answer. "Favorite topping?"

Sighing, Kurt responded "M&Ms."

Still nodding, Dave put that together. "Okay, assume I offered you cookie dough ice cream with M&Ms. Would you accept it?"

Kurt was truly confused. Did this have a point? Was Dave just trying to see if Kurt trusted him, as though Kurt were afraid Dave might poison his food, or something? "Sure, why not?"

"Okay, What if I offered you cookie dough ice cream without M&Ms. Would you still accept it?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. This conversation wasn't being nearly as productive as Kurt had hoped it would be. "Yes. It's still my favorite ice cream."

Dave met Kurt's gaze again. "You're cookie dough ice cream, Kurt. I love you, I want you. Your love? That's M&Ms. It would be really nice, but I'm willing to do without…if you are."

Kurt shook his head. "No Dave, you deserve so much better than that. I could never do something like that to you."

Dave shrugged. "I deserve a lot of things. I also _don't_ deserve a lot of things. I don't deserve to be in this chair…probably. You deserve the right to have put me in this chair. I deserve to still be playing hockey. I'm the best player this school has had in twenty years. Coaches of _other_ teams tell me that. What we deserve, what we want, and what we get are generally three completely different things.

Kurt leaned down to look Dave in the eye. Dave turned away, refusing to meet Kurt's gaze again, uncomfortable with Kurt's pity. "I don't know if I can do that, Dave: just be someone's boyfriend unless I actually loved them."

Kurt tried to give Dave's shoulder an affable squeeze, but Dave slapped it away. "You had no issues with it last night. Or…oh. I get it. _This_ is your payback for everything I did to you."

"No! nonononono! Dave, I'm trying _not_ to hurt you here." Dave scoffed and lolled his head back, staring at the fluorescent lighting. "Please, Dave. Tell me what I can do to make this better." Kurt cupped his hand around Dave's cheek and forced him to look at him.

"I already told you, Hummel. I like you. A lot. We're the only two homos out at this damn school. I'm single, you're single. I obviously don't repulse you, judging by last night." Kurt didn't respond. He didn't know how to. Or even if he should. "Think about it. Please?"

Kurt nodded, feeling defeated. At least Dave cared about _him_. It wouldn't be Kurt feeling neglected or unloved in a relationship, not by any means. Dave turned the chair around and began wheeling back to class when Kurt remembered what had prompted him to seek Dave out to begin with. "Oh, Dave?" He looked over his shoulder, just able to see Kurt out of the corner of his eye. "Tell your little Puckhead friends not to threaten me anymore." Dave turned the chair around, a puzzled expression on his face that revealed he was obviously oblivious to what had transpired just before third period started. "Tell them that the hockey team may have _your _back, but everyone who's anyone on the football team has _my _back."


	23. What is love?

When Kurt got home that afternoon, he was pleased to see Carol already there. She was in the living room folding towels and sheets fresh from the laundry. The smell of the fabric softener and the heat from the still warm linen made the entire room feel sleepy and cozy. Picking up a towel and folding it, Kurt decided Carol was the best person to talk to about his problem. "Carol, can I talk to you for a few minutes?"

"Sure, honey. What is it?" She picked up a fitted sheet and handed him two corners.

Kurt, accepting the sheet, thought about how to phrase what he wanted to say. "It's guy trouble. I mean _with_ another guy."

Carol smiled and finished folding the sheet with Kurt. "I knew it. Don't think I didn't see how flushed you and David were after your _talk_ last night." Kurt blushed. "I kind of figured you two had something going on."

Kurt picked up another towel and clung it to his chest, absorbing the soothing warmth. "It isn't like that Carol. Last night was wrong, I shouldn't have kissed him."

Carol frowned. "Oh, I'm so sorry Kurt. I was positive that he liked you."

Kurt put the towel down in the stack with the other folded linen and sat down on the couch. "Complete opposite. He wants to date, but I don't love him."

Carol smiled and sat down next to him. "Sweetie, you're seventeen…_barely_. Do you even _know_ what love _is_?"

Kurt furrowed his brow at her. "Yeah, of course. I see _you_ with my dad everyday and I remember my dad with my mom _very_ well."

Carol, still smiling, shook her head. " Honey, do you know how old your parents were when they fell in love?" Kurt shook his head. "They were both in their mid-twenties. How long was it after your mom died that your dad found that kind of love again?"

"_You._ Not until he met you."

Carol placed her hand over Kurt's squeezing it gently. "Exactly, Kurt. Love like mine and your father's is rare and hard to come by. There are a lot of different kinds of love, but true love? I'd be truly surprised if you found that so young."

"Dave says he loves me."

Carol chuckled and slapped the top of Kurt's hand affectionately. "Puppy love!" Kurt smiled, that _was_ a good way to think about Dave's affections. He _was_ very much like a little puppy dog. "Kurt, do you know who Dave reminds me of? The way he looks at you?" Kurt shook his head. "He reminds me of you." Kurt was about to contradict her, but she put up her finger to silence him. "The way you were with Finn last year? That's exactly what I see when I saw you and Dave together at dinner last night, or even in the hospital, together." Kurt kind of hated Carol for being right. "It doesn't matter how Dave feels, though. How do _you_ feel when you see Dave, when you're with him, when you're not with him?"

Kurt thought about it. He shrugged. "I don't really know. He's kind of funny, but some of the stuff he says makes me want to strangle him. He's so uncouth. Even still, I love talking to him. Even stupid stuff like hockey. The way he talks about it makes it seem interesting. And I hate seeing him upset. He has a nice smile: not just on his lips, but in his eyes. His eyes smile."

"What about last night? I know it's none of _my_ business, but why did you kiss him?"

Kurt had to think about that. _Why did I kiss him?_ Carol didn't press him for his answer and they just sat in silence for a few minutes as Kurt thought. "I don't really know. I remember being mad at him. I wanted to yell at him, but I couldn't bring myself to. I felt warm and fluffy." Kurt decided to stop staring at the laundry pile or he'd start describing himself as 'linty.' "I was angry and kind of sad," Kurt finally saw what Carol had been fishing for, "but…just being with him seemed to make that all better. Like, as long as he was there, everything would be okay."

Kurt met Carol's eyes, pretty certain he knew what was coming next. "Well, Kurt, correct me if I'm wrong, but, while you might not _love_ him, it certainly sounds like you _like_ him…a lot." Kurt nodded as Carol pulled into a tight hug. It was nice to have a mother again.

xoxoxo

Kurt stared at his phone. He had pressed Dave's name on his call list, but was still getting up the nerve to press the "dial" button. This was a big step. Did he want to date Dave? He liked hanging out with Dave. And he definitely enjoyed kissing Dave. But did he really want to become a couple with him? _Wait a minute, hanging out and making out? Isn't that what dating is?_ Kurt tentatively hit the dial' button and immediately regretted it, but it was too late, he could already hear it ringing.

"Kurt?"

Dave sounded…nervous? Scared? Tired? "Hey Dave."

"I'm kinda on my way to physical therapy right now. Is this gonna take long?"

_Hurt_: that's how Dave sounded. "No, not really. I'm sorry…about earlier. I've thought about it and I'm pretty sure I _still_ don't really know how I feel. However…I _am_ willing to take it slow."

Kurt obviously couldn't see Dave's expression on the other end of the line, but it was one of pure bliss.


	24. Baby Don't Hurt Me

The next morning, Kurt stayed at the front of the school and waited for Dave. He wasn't entirely sure why, it just seemed like something a boyfriend should do. Joan pulled up fifteen minutes before school and helped Dave out of the van; it wasn't difficult, there was an electronic lift that came out of the side of the van and lowered the wheelchair to the ground. Kurt waved to Joan as she got back in the van and drove off. Kurt bounced down the front steps of the school to meet Dave at the bottom. Kurt couldn't deny being excited about the prospect of having an actual boyfriend, but Dave was positively ecstatic.

"Morning, Dave." Kurt walked alongside Dave, wanting to hold his hand but unable to because Dave needed it to control the chair. Instead, Kurt rested his hand on the back of Dave's neck. He rubbed his thumb over the base of Dave's hairline.

Dave smiled up at Kurt. "Hey, handsome." Kurt blushed. "I don't have group until seven tonight. What are you doing after school?"

"I have glee after school. We're going to be performing our group project for the week."

"Oh?" They steered around a flock of Cheerios, receiving disgusted glares from at least two that Kurt noticed. It didn't take long for such an ignorant little community to show their distaste at anything unconventional. Kurt, wanting to show that he didn't care about their disapproval, petted Dave affectionately. "What was your project for the week?"

"We're doing dance music from the nineties. My group is doing a song by Haddaway. You wanna come and watch?"

"Yeah, of course. I love watching you shake your ass."

"Oh, shut up, Dave." Kurt said it playfully, lacking his usual contempt when Dave said something suggestive. "You should consider joining glee. You don't have sports anymore – for the moment, I mean. And you sing really well."

Dave snorted, "Yeah, that'll be the day."

Kurt let his hand gently stroke the side of Dave's cheek, genuinely unaware of how his touch was affecting the very tactile-sensitive Dave. "Why not?"

Dave turned to look at Kurt, kissing his hovering fingers as he did so. "Because, I may be gay, but I'm not a fag."

Instant pain shot through Dave's cheek as Kurt's beautiful fingers shot across it: slapping him. _Every time…every time I think the old Dave is gone…_Kurt was hurt and more than a little pissed. As he stormed away from Dave, he shot back over his shoulder, "That's not what your forehead says."

Low blow. Kurt knew it. Dave knew it. But still, Dave was the one who felt guilty. As Kurt turned around one last time to check the damage, he could see Dave pull the brim of his hat lower over his eyes. Kurt thought he had just made Dave self-conscious about his scar again. Dave however, was trying to hide his eyes so no one could see his burgeoning tears. He didn't like hurting Kurt like that and he hated that he always said something stupid and/or hurtful every time Kurt was around, but old habits die hard.

xoxoxo

Dave sat with his usual group at lunch, moping again. He used a celery stick to poke at a piece of cauliflower. "Dude," Nick picked up one Dave's carrot sticks and snapped it in half. "What's with the rabbit food?"

"My mom's putting me on a diet. She says since I'm not as active as I used to be, I can't eat like I used to." Dave dipped the celery into ranch dressing and tried it.

Marshall looked at Dave's veggie platter like Dave was eating mud. "If you want, I can get you a Jamaican patty."

Dave shook his head and tried the freaky little albino tree thing; he had never had cauliflower before. "Nah. I kind of agree with her. I'm tired of being pudgy. I want to be ripped and that isn't going to happen if I'm in this chair and living off cow that's been processed so many times it isn't even meat anymore."

Marshall shrugged. Gunnar dipped one of his tater tots in Dave's ranch dressing and shoved it in his mouth, talking as he did so, "So, if you agree with her, why are you so bummed?"

Dave shrugged, not really in a talkative mood. "I think Kurt broke up with me."

Marshall furrowed his brow and looked at Gunnar, who appeared just as confused. "How long were you two dating?"

Dave snorted pitifully. "About twelve hours."

Gunnar shook his head. "That freaking punk doesn't take a hint, does he? I think he needs to take a trip in a port-a-potty."

Dave slammed his fist down on the table, the vibrations causing a cherry tomato to roll into his lap. "Leave Kurt alone, alright? Even if I'm having issues with him, I don't want you to mess with him."

Nicholas grabbed his tray and stood up. "God, I'm sick of this shit. Stop sticking up for that fucking prissy little fag. I'm outta here. I'll be back once you're no longer insane."

"Fuck off, Nick. I don't need you here, anyway."

Marshall put his hand on Dave's shoulder. "Relax, Davey. Nick's just an ass, you know that."

Gunnar was the one to shrug this time. "I don't know, I agree with him. I mean, why do you care so much about someone who makes you so miserable like this?"

Dave pushed his food away, no longer hungry. "He doesn't make me miserable. He makes me happy. I've had depression for a long time now and when he's around, it kind of goes away."

Marshall eyed a table on the other side of the cafeteria, spotting Hummel. He watched Hummel pick at his food while talking to the fat chick in glee. He looked as miserable as Dave. Turning back to his former captain, "If you ever need someone to talk to, you know we're here for you. But meanwhile, do you need help getting him back?"

Dave shook his head. He felt like this was something he needed to do on his own. "No, I'll think of some – wait. Yes." Dave looked over the remaining eight hockey players at the table. "Can any of you carry a tune?"

xoxoxo

When Kurt got to glee, he was mildly upset to see Dave there. True, he _had_ invited him, but that was _before _he had insulted him.

Kurt sat up on the highest riser; Dave couldn't get up there. It didn't matter though, because Dave didn't make any effort to go after Kurt, he just looked up at him sadly and shot him a weak, hopeful smile. Kurt turned away from him.

Mr. Schuester came into the room a minute after the last of New Directions had taken their seats. Kurt noticed he didn't look at all surprised to see Dave there. Clasping his hands together, Mr. Schu leaned forward slightly, "Okay, guys. I know we have our performances today, but before we do, David here had something he'd like to share with us." He held out his hand, gesturing Dave forward.

"Thank you Mr. Schu." Dave rolled forward and centered himself in front of the class. Kurt buried his head in his hands. _I swear to god, if he professes his undying love, I'm throwing a shoe at his big head._ Instead, Kurt heard the jazz band start up. Kurt looked up, morbidly curious.

_Even a lover, makes a mistake sometimes_

_Like any other, Fall out and lose his mind_

_And I'm sorry for the things I did_

_For your teardrops over words I said_

_Can you forgive me?_

_And open your heart once again, oh yeah_

Kurt felt himself blushing. He was still mad at Dave, but at least he was starting to feel a little better. As Dave came to the chorus, all of a sudden he was joined by other voices. _Non_-glee voices. Marshall, Gunnar, and two other hockey players filed into the choir room, singing in (relative) harmony with Dave.

_It's true_

_I mean it_

_From the bottom of my heart_

_Yeah, it's true_

_Without you I would fall apart_

Kurt started chuckling. He could see Quinn in front of him, her hand over her mouth trying to stifle a laugh. Mercedes was bent over, not concealing her laughter well at all. When the chorus ended, Dave went back to singing solo while the hockey players swayed awkwardly behind him. By the time the next chorus came around, the New Directions football players had gotten up and joined them. Soon, every girl, plus Kurt, was being serenaded by a different hockey or football player.

The girls all joined their respective serenader at the front of the choir room, dancing and swaying with them. Kurt remained in his seat, arms folded over his chest, desperately trying to maintain a straight face…and failing.

Marshall started coming up the stairs, still singing, his attention directed at Kurt. As the chorus died away, Dave took up the solo again:

_I'd do anything to make it up to you_

_So please understand_

_And open your heart once again_

Kurt looked away from the ever-approaching Marshall: a huge smirk on his face. All of a sudden, Kurt could feel Marshall's hands on his hips. Kurt tensed up as he felt himself being lifted from his chair. Marshall swung him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and dashed back down the stairs.

Kurt was laughing too hard to put up any kind of fight. He soon found himself being dumped into Dave's lap. Kurt looped his arms around Dave's head and buried his own head into Dave's neck, giggling so hard he was near tears. When the song came to an end, Kurt was shaking slightly from laughing so much. He looked up at Dave, smiling. Dave smiled back down at Kurt and pressed their noses together. Kurt tilted his chin up and met Dave's lips with his own.

The gleeks were all laughing and clapping. Out of the corner of Kurt's eye, he could make out Dave's friends joking around with the members of glee. Very softly, Kurt could hear Dave whisper in his ear, "I'm sorry; I'm still learning."

Kurt put his hand behind Dave's head and pulled him closer, kissing his cheek. "I know; I'm sorry too."

Kurt stayed in Dave's lap for the rest of glee, except for his own performance. Gunnar and one of the other hockey players remained as well. After all the performances, Mr. Schu came up to Dave (and by default, Kurt). "So, you thinking of joining us now that you've seen what we're all about?"

Dave shook his head. "No, I'm good. Besides, it would look kind of weird with two cripples up on stage."

Mr. Schu shrugged his head. "That's your choice, but you're welcome to come to practices and participate if you want. No one will force you to perform up on the stage or anything."

Dave nuzzled his head against Kurt's. "I have knee surgery Monday, so I'll be out a few days. But I'll think about it."

Mr. Schu patted Dave on the shoulder before going over to talk to Finn, Puck and the two remaining hockey boys. Kurt stroked Dave's cheek. "Can I visit you during your recuperation?"

Dave took Kurt's hand and squeezed it. "I insist."

xoxoxo

**The song is "It's True" by the Backstreet Boys**

**Bonus points to anyone who can guess what Kurt's song was. **

**Some of you have been asking me in reviews and e-mails about what will/ will not happen. Once upon a time, I could (for the most part) answer those questions. However, recently this story has gotten away from me and re-written itself. Kurt and Dave were never supposed to start dating so soon, but things just felt right. The only thing I know for certain at this point is that I **_**am not**_** re-writing the epilogue (which was completed sometime around chapter five). Essentially, I know the destination and have a compass, but not a map.**

**As for those of you who are "excited for the trial," there will only be snippets of it. I have never been to court in any capacity and my knowledge of court comes strictly from **_**Law and Order, **_**so expect something along those lines…ish.**


	25. Idle Chatter

**Sorry about the brief hiatus. Like I already warned you, now that I'm back at school, updating will be erratic. I substitute teach fifth and sixth grade during the day, so there's no saying how much time I'll have to write during the day and I have grad school at night, so life's a bit...grrr... Ideally, I would like to have this finished before the show ends its hiatus though. I HATE being influences by outside sources.**

xoxoxo

It was Tuesday, and Kurt was fully convinced David had one of the coolest moms ever. Dave hadn't been feeling well enough after his surgery Monday morning to have any guests, so Kurt skipped school on Tuesday and drove out to the backwoods of Lima that housed the Karofsky residence. It was eight in the morning when Kurt got there; he had wanted to get there early enough to make Dave breakfast.

Kurt rang the doorbell and Joan was the one to answer it. She pulled him into a big hug and, in her unusual way of talking, told him there was fresh coffee in the kitchen. Kurt followed after her, looking around. He had been correct; the house was much brighter during the day.

"Day-Day is still sleeping, but he'll be up soon. The surgery went really well. They don't think he'll need any follow-up surgery on his knee." Kurt took a seat at the kitchen table as Joan handed him a cup of coffee.

"Thank you, so much Joan." He made sure she was looking at him when he spoke. Kurt knew how to finger spell…kind of. But lip-reading just seemed to be so much simpler. "I'm curious…how did you know I rang the doorbell? Do you still have some of your hearing left?"

"Oh, no. I was born significantly deaf, but lost all hearing when I was five. Look over the door." Kurt followed Joan's gaze. There was a small light over the door. To Kurt, it looked like one of the ones they hooked up to fire alarms, except it was white instead or red. "It's a strobe light, it goes off when the door bell rings." Kurt nodded; he was learning more and more over the past few weeks how much being in a wheelchair, or being deaf, or having any kind of handicap was not simply an inconvenience in a person's life, but an entirely new way of living. "Dave should be awake in about an hour or so…whether he likes it or not. You're welcome to make yourself at home until he wakes up, or, if you want, you can go pull him out of bed…or just join him. Whatever you like."

Kurt choked on his coffee slightly. Had Joan really just suggested Kurt get into bed with Dave? He looked up at her, rather incredulously, over the rim of his coffee. Joan winked at him. Kurt started chuckling into his coffee. "Paul and I like you a lot Kurt. Whether or not you and David are…_serious,_ we like how he has changed since you came along. He's…_happy_." Kurt felt guilty. It was bad enough that he felt like he was using David, even though he had David's consent to _be_ used. But he didn't want to disappoint Dave's family. He really liked them. What if things didn't work out between him and Dave? Kurt had no _real_ romantic interest in Dave, despite the warm mushy feelings he got when Dave was around. Kurt was terrified that this relationship was doomed to crash and burn. Would the old Dave come thundering back if that happened? How would Joan and Paul cope if their son went back to being the moody, depressed Neanderthal he once was (and sometimes _still_ was?). Would it ruin Burt's new friendship with Paul if something happened between Dave and Kurt? _I really hope Carol's right_. _If it_ is _puppy love, then maybe Dave will settle and our relationship will amiably taper off into a steady friendship?_ Kurt's head was starting to hurt. He didn't like thinking about where things would or would not go. Instead, he just wanted to live for the moment. Isn't that what teenagers are supposed to do? He handed his dirty mug to Joan and decided to take her up on his offer.

xoxoxo

Dave woke up when he felt the bed shift slightly underneath him. Turning his head, he saw Kurt scooching closer to him on top of the covers. Dave smiled and tried sitting up, only to get pushed gently back down by Kurt. "Go back to sleep, Dave. You look cute when you sleep." Kurt wasn't lying. Dave looked adorable sleeping, like a ginormous baby with his pudgy cheeks and the roundness of his face.

"Uh-uh, I don't wanna miss a thing." Dave tried pulling Kurt closer but failed to hook his arm around Kurt's waist. He hated not being able to roll comfortably onto his side. Anytime he tried, he couldn't find a comfortable way to balance the weight of his casts on top of him. Any time he rolled the _other_ way, he ended up rolling too much on his casts and off the side of the bed.

"Are you going to sing to me Aerosmith songs now?" Kurt curled up under Dave's arm, his head and hand lying on Dave's chest while he wormed his other hand under Dave's back.

Dave scoffed at that. "Steve Tyler is a creepy bastard. Even though that _is_ a pretty good song. Too over done though. Like that _Titanic_ song." Kurt agreed with that sentiment. They had both been young when "My Heart Will Go On" came out, but they could tell from the looks their elders made anytime it played that it had apparently gotten some _serious_ airtime in its prime…to the point that people would _rather_ be deaf than hear it again.

"I think your mom thinks we're getting married or something." Kurt couldn't see Dave laughing, but he could feel it reverberating through his chest.

"Mom goes a bit overboard on some things. I'll let her know we're just…friends with benefits."

Kurt looked up at Dave, feeling slightly hurt at that. He wasn't sure why it bothered him that Dave characterized their relationship like that, but it made him feel slightly _whore_-ish. "I like to think we're a bit more than _that_."

Dave shrugged, "We are whatever _you_ want us to be." Dave snuggled into Kurt's hair. Unable to help himself, Dave inhaled deeply. _Kurt smells like apples_. Kurt liked that characterization of their relationship _slightly_ better, but they would still have to have a talk about _exactly_ what they were.

Kurt didn't mention that thought to Dave and instead agreed with him. "Mm-hmm." Kurt rubbed his hand in a large circle on Dave's chest. Dave had been sleeping in a pair of boxer shorts and a wife-beater. Kurt could only see the wife beater since Dave was mostly under the sheets, but he could still tell how nice Dave's body was through the thin cotton. Kurt wondered if it would be appropriate to have another make out session with the recuperating Dave, a boy that he admittedly had conflicted and confusing feelings about. He decided it might be better to keep things…calm. "How's your leg?"

Dave pulled the sheets off himself, revealing a light blue cast in lieu of his former white one. That wasn't the first thing Kurt noticed though. _Dave has_ really _nice legs…or_ leg, _rather. _He obviously couldn't see Dave's other leg, but he assumed that there was some reasonable sense of symmetry beneath the cast. "They told me at first that they thought I would need two to three surgeries to get all the pieces of my knee-cap to fuse where they're supposed to go, but they said after my surgery yesterday that things might be a lot better than they originally thought."

"That's great, Dave! How much longer will you be stuck in the chair?"

Dave shrugged, "Another two months-ish?" Kurt rolled away from Dave and off the side of the bed. Dave got a sense of panic in his chest. He replayed the last few minutes in his head. _What the_ hell _did I say, this time?_ Kurt left Dave's room and Dave let out a pitiful whimper. Kurt came back a few minutes later, with something in his hands. "I'm sorry, whatever I said this time."

Kurt flopped onto the bed, and propped himself on his elbows near Dave's knees. Dave let out another little whimper. Kurt smiled, it sounded like the whimper he made after the first time he had kissed him. "You didn't say anything wrong, Dave." Dave could see Kurt fiddling with whatever was in his hands. "And if you keep whimpering like that, I'll have Marshall re-re-christen you 'Squeaker.'"

A sharpie, that's what Kurt had. Dave watched as Kurt scribbled on his cast. "Seriously…what is this, middle school?" Dave sat up so he could see what Kurt had written. _Get well NOW! - Kurt Elizabeth Hummel_. "Your middle name is Elizabeth? Did your dad _want_ you to be gay?"

Kurt sat up, a mildly annoyed look on his face. He brandished the sharpie precariously close to Dave's face, like a dagger. "My middle name, according to my birth certificate, is Brandon. I _hate_ that name though. If you _EVER_ tell anyone my middle name is Brandon, I will tell _everyone_ that you like the Princess Dairies books."

"FIRST of all, they're the _Royal Diaries_ books…I kinda like history. And second of all…why Elizabeth?

Kurt put the cap back on the sharpie and curled up in Dave's lap. Dave pushed himself back on the bed, pulling Kurt with him, so that he was supported in the upright position by the headboard. "My mom's name was Katherine Elizabeth Hummel."

Dave thought about that for a minute. Kurt didn't talk about his mother a whole lot, although everyone knew she had passed away. Dave wasn't sure why or how long ago and he didn't feel comfortable asking Kurt right now. "Then how come not Kurt _Katherine_ Hummel?"

Kurt smiled to himself. "Ever wonder why my name rhymes with my dad's?" Dave grunted a negative response. "My name is a portmanteau of Katherine and Burt. The "K" from Katherine and the "urt" from Burt."

Dave nodded. It made sense. _If Kurt and I ever have kids, we could name them Kavid, or Karommel._ Dave immediately cut off that line of thought. If Kurt wasn't as serious about this relationship as he was, he wasn't going to let himself get attached.

Kurt watched a cat walk through the room and exit through a door Kurt hadn't gone through yet. Kurt, never having had a pet (other than Pavarotti), was a bit weird-ed out by seeing the cat just roaming around loose. Though he maintained his composure, it was much akin to seeing a squirrel or raccoon just saunter through your house. Dave didn't even seem to notice the fluffy grey and white critter. "I'm named after a former friend of the family. He helped hook my parents up but died of a heart attack before I was born."

"How _did_ your parents meet exactly?"

Dave thought about it for a minute, not sure if the full story was worth telling, He didn't want to bore Kurt, but then again, if he wanted Kurt to be open and honest with him, Dave should probably do the same. "They met at college. They were in a chemistry lecture together. I get my love of science from my ma. Because my mom can lip-read so well, she never needed a translator at school so long as the teacher faced her general direction." Dave pulled Kurt closer to him and adjusted Kurt so that he wasn't cutting off the circulation in his good leg. "My dad sat behind and to the side of her. He says it was love at first sight…but my mom never even noticed him. About a week after he got the hots for her, he followed her out of the class, walking just behind her, he asked her what her name was. He totally thought she was ignoring him, but obviously she had no idea he was even talking to her."

Kurt smiled. Paul and Joan seemed almost psychic the way they had talked with Burt and Carol; Paul stopping talking a moment before Joan would start, Joan turning to face Paul just before he would say something. It was hard to imagine that intuition was anything but natural. "My dad walked beside her just about every day after class. Finally my mom got kind of annoyed. She was like 'why do you follow me everyday?' My dad was super-flustered. He told her he just wanted to know her name. He told her he thought she was very pretty."

Kurt interjected, "Aw."

Dave kissed Kurt's head. "Yeah, aw. My mom was kind of self-conscious about being deaf and was afraid of giving my dad a chance, so she just told him she was deaf and completely shut him down." Kurt frowned, _Poor Paul_. "But my dad's not one to take rejection lightly. He talked to his roommate, David, about it. Dave went to the school library and got a Sesame Street sign language dictionary. Two weeks later my dad went up to her after class and told her, in sign, that she was 'the most beautiful woman he had ever met.' My mom says he completely butchered it and his grammar was atrocious, but she still thought it was the cutest thing she had ever seen. She was still afraid to get involved with my dad, though. Being deaf isn't really a disability. It's more like a culture; especially if you grow up in a deaf community like my mom did. Dave had the school library do an interlibrary loan of every sign language dictionary they could get their hands on. For the next semester Dave quizzed my dad on sign language until my dad knew just about every word there is to know. My dad says he studied for that more than he did for the bar. Finally, after they returned from Christmas break, my dad sought her out and told her, flat out in sign, that he liked her a lot and was willing to go to any lengths just to get a shot at dating her. She said yes. They've been together ever since."

Kurt smiled. "That's so cute. I can see where you get your tenacity from." Dave shrugged. He never really likened himself to his father. He was a total momma's boy.

Dave stroked his fingers through Kurt's shaggy brown hair. "So…um. You wanna watch a movie or something?"

Kurt sat up. "Sure. But no sports movies this time."

Dave shrugged, again. "That's fine by me."

"_Fight Club_ counts as a sport."

"Damn…"

xoxoxo

**Next chapter will have a bit more "action" in it.**


	26. Oh, Boy

**This follows immediately after the previous chapter**

xoxoxo

Joan had gone out to do some shopping, leaving Kurt and David alone. Currently, they were curled up on the couch in the living room watching _The Patriot_ (a young Heath Ledger for Kurt and violence and gore for Dave). Dave hadn't gotten dressed yet and was still in his boxers and wife beater. He hadn't shaved since before his surgery so he looked rather rugged and stunning to Kurt. Even still, Kurt felt mildly uncomfortable curled up next to the practically naked David. It didn't help that Dave had his cast propped up on an ottoman off to the right side and had his other leg splayed off to the left. Kurt had his legs delicately crossed at the ankles, a far more appropriate position in Kurt's opinion.

Mel Gibson had just finished avenging the death of one of his children by slaughtering every red coat around when Kurt decided he couldn't take the distraction of Dave's boxers anymore. The fly was just a hair away from exposing _everything_. "Do you _have_ to sit like that?"

Dave looked over at Kurt, confused (as usual). "What do you mean?"

Kurt gestured to Dave's lap. "Like that! With everything all…_out there. _And all 'in your face.'"

Dave snickered. "I wish it was all 'in your face.'" Kurt smacked Dave roughly on the shoulder. "Sorry, that was too good to pass up." Dave made a mock "pouty face" at Kurt. Kurt glared at Dave, not at all in the mood to be patronized. Dave, feeling the ice vibes Kurt was sending him, "Fine, if I get 'excited' or anything I'll cover it up…with a pillow, or a blanket," Dave got really quiet for the next part, hoping Kurt wouldn't hear him, "or your ass."

Kurt grabbed the remote and paused the movie. He stood up and put his hands on his hips.

Dave, feeling a lecture coming decided to take preemptive measures. "Look Kurt, I'm sorry. My brain works a lot slower than my mouth. You have to admit though, I am getting better…a little."

Kurt nodded, his anger slightly abated. "I've noticed. You are improving, _gradually_. But I've decided I'm going to _help_ you learn to watch what you say." Dave furrowed his brows. "From now on, anytime you say anything lewd, suggestive, or vulgar, you are going to get punished."

Dave smiled broadly. "As much as I'd love a good spanking, I don't think I can fit in your lap." Noticing Kurt's pissy look coming back, Dave quickly retracted his last statement. "Sorry! Sorry…you just look really cute when you're pissed."

Kurt's pissy look disappeared and was replaced by a coy smile. "Do I really?" Dave nodded, a goofy smile on his face. "Well you're not going to think I'm 'cute' in a minute."

Dave let out a confused 'huh?' before Kurt started straddling one of his legs and leaning in close to Dave, his lips a breath away from meeting Dave's. _How is_ this _punishment?_

_Hey there sugar baby _

_Saw you twice at the pop show_

_You taste just like glitter_

_Mixed with rock and roll_

_I like you a lot lot_

_Think you're really hot hot_

Kurt moved to Dave's ear, stroking his cheek softly with one hand as he did so.

_I know you think you're special_

_When we dance real crazy_

_Glamaphonic, electronic, disco baby_

_I like you a lot lot_

_All we want is hot hot_

On "hot hot" Kurt jumped back and away from Dave. Kurt began touching himself erotically.

_Boys boys boys!_

_We like boys in cars_

_Boys boys boys!_

_Buy us drinks in bars_

Kurt turned so that his back was to Dave, bending over slightly he ran his hands up and down his thigh and butt.

_Boys boys boys!_

_With Hairspray and denim_

_Boys boys boys_

_We love them!_

_We love them!_

Kurt came back to Dave who had clenched his legs together in a pitiful attempt to hide his growing 'problem'. Kurt straddled both of Dave's legs this time, not touching him.

_Baby is a bad boy _

_With some retro sneakers_

_Let's go see The Killers _

_And make out in the bleachers_

_I like you a lot lot_

_Think you're really hot hot_

Dave was practically shaking he was so turned on by Kurt's little "show." It continued in much the same pattern for the remainder of the song, Kurt shaking his ass in Dave's face during the chorus, straddling his legs, but not touching anything but his cheek or chest, during the main refrains.

When the song came to an end, Kurt came back to straddling Dave's legs. Dave was a bit huffy, desperate to pull Kurt into a deep kiss. "Yeah, umm…FYI, Az is the one that hates Lady Gaga. I don't mind her so much. So, guess again on the punishment thing."

Kurt smiled innocently, his big doe eyes reminding Dave vaguely of that Pillsbury chick at school. "Oh, that? _That_ wasn't the punishment." Dave was confused again. He was about to ask what the punishment was supposed to be when Kurt looked down. Dave followed his gaze. Dave's erection was throbbing, desperate for attention. "_That's_ your punishment."

_Still confused…_ "I don't think _any_ guy has ever considered a boner a punishment. I mean, maybe if we were at school, yeah, definitely. But we're all alone here." Dave reached his hand up to Kurt's cheek, intending to pull him into a kiss.

Kurt pulled away from Dave's touch, however, and retreated to the opposite side of the room, making himself comfortable in the armchair, far from Dave's reach. "You might not think it's such a punishment right now, but give it a few minutes."

Dave still didn't fully understand where Kurt was going with this, until his penis began throbbing steadily…painfully. "Oh, come _on_. That's low."

Kurt smiled pleasantly, _deviously_ at Dave before hitting "play" on the remote. Dave shifted uncomfortably in his seat. After making several attempts to cross his legs he pulled a pillow into his lap.

Kurt watched Dave out of the corner of his eye. Dave continued shifting, occasionally leaning all the way forward and then leaning back. One of Dave's hands disappeared under the pillow. "Uh, uh, uh" Kurt tsk'ed at Dave. "Hands where I can see them. If you cheat, you'll never learn to behave."

"You're just a vindictive bitch." Kurt wanted to be offended by that, but found Dave's discomfort too amusing. Dave tried to lose himself in the movie, but really couldn't.

After what felt like hours, the blood flow slowly retreated from Dave's "junk" as his body realized he wasn't going to be getting any.

When Kurt saw Dave take the pillow off of his lap and toss it aside, Kurt returned to his side on the couch. Dave, not really mad at Kurt, wrapped his arm around Kurt's shoulder. "Do that a couple dozen more times and we'll be even for all the times I slammed you into the lockers."

Kurt chuckled. "Hopefully you won't need that much reminding to watch your tongue."

"That was _really_ hot, by the way. You need to seriously do that sometime when you _aren't_ mad at me."

Kurt rubbed his hand up and down Dave's chest. "You have a really nice voice yourself, Dave. All you need really is someone to teach you how to control your breathing. Have you thought about Mr. Schu's invitation?"

"Yeah, I _thought_ about it. I'm really _not_ interested in joining glee."

"You haven't thought about it at all! Courtney says you like to sing. And as I've already said, you sing really well. You looked like you were having fun the other day and you perform in front of hundreds of people all the time. That's what organized sports _are_! They're a performance; albeit an ad lib performance."

Dave was the one getting mildly annoyed now. "Look Kurt, I have no intention of joining glee, now stop pushing the subject before I say something stupid again."

Kurt looked up at Dave, his lower lip thrust out slightly. "But why?"

Now Kurt was the one who looked like a pitiful little baby. Dave sighed. It wasn't something he had wanted to discuss. He sort of thought Kurt would have figured it out by now. "I've been playing hockey since I was six. I _love_ it. And I'm great at it."

"But you don't _have_ hockey anymore."

"You think that's it, Kurt? If I had really wanted to join glee, I'd drop football in a second to spend more time with you. It wouldn't interfere with hockey anymore than Finn being in glee interferes with his football. But that point is moot now that I'm not on any teams anymore. But, as I was saying, I've been playing hockey since I was six. My dad really wanted me to play football, and I did. But I've always truly loved hockey. I'm like my mom like that. She adores hockey. My dad thinks it's kinda boring, but my mom and I watch all the games together. I've been playing hockey since I was six. That's eleven years. And in those eleven years, if I played a game, my mom was there cheering me on. My mom has never missed a single one of my games…hockey _or_ football. It's me and my mom. If I did glee, if I got into glee, that's an entire part of my life she'd be completely cut out of. I can't do that."

Kurt nodded, he understood where Dave was coming from. He tried so hard to have _something_ in common with Burt. Dave had that common ground with his mom and didn't want to lose it. To Kurt, a parent's enjoyment wasn't a valid reason to give up something that you loved; the only performance of his Burt had ever seen was his "Single Ladies" routine, and Kurt hadn't even been singing along with it, just lip-syncing. But what was right for _him_ might not be right for Dave. Kurt leaned up and kissed Dave. "Okay, I won't push you anymore. But if you ever _are_ interested, just for a one-shot deal or whatever, you know where to find us."

Dave returned Kurt's kiss. "Thank you for understanding, but I'm pretty sure, _you're_ the only one I'll be performing for anytime soon."

xoxoxo

**Things are going to start moving quickly from here on out, rather than vignettes of their day to day lives, it's going to start going from one important scene to the next, sometimes spread months apart (don't worry, updates won't be 'real-time').**


	27. Neverland

April 23rd

"Kurt, honey, I don't think you're supposed to be texting on the plane."

Kurt ignored Carol as he finished up his text to Dave. Burt and Carol had finally gotten around to going on their honeymoon, dragging Finn and Kurt along with them. Not that Kurt didn't like Hawaii or anything, it's just he didn't even want to consider what the excessive tropical sun had done to his fair skin, or how the salt water had affected his hair. The plane was about to touch down and Kurt had all of a sudden gotten several texts from Dave: all the texts Dave had sent him while they had been in the air and out of cellular range.

***I think Ill meet u at the airport, is that ok?***

***UR on the plane arent u?***

***I'll meet u at the airport whether u want me 2 or not ;) ***

***Maybe we can hang out or something, unless UR 2 jetlagged. I bet UR sick of family by now?***

***Hey! I see UR plane…I think***

Kurt giggled to himself, sending his response off to Dave:

***I can't wait! I'll see you in a few***

"Carol, I honestly think if this teeny little cell phone is capable of causing an airplane to self-destruct or whatever it would have been confiscated by TSA."

Carol just shook her head. "Burt, do something about your boy before he crashes the plane." Burt let out a snore in response to Carol.

"Oh, please. We're ten feet off the ground. I think we'll survive the crash." As Kurt said that, the wheels of the plane finally touched down, jolting Burt and Finn out of their sleep. Finn had a lovely line of spittle running down his cheek. _What the hell did I_ ever _see in that?_ Kurt leaned over Carol and nudged his father. "Hey dad? Dave's meeting me at the airport, can I go back with him?"

"What, you don't like _us_ anymore?" Burt chuckled. "Of course. Who'd he come with?"

Kurt looked out the window, trying to figure out from where Dave could have spotted the plane. There were wide, tall windows along most the side of the airport, but all the people looked so small, and Dave, in his chair, would probably look even smaller. Like a child. There was no chance of Kurt spotting him. "He didn't say."

"Okay, just load up your bags and everything into the car first and then you two can go off."

Kurt sat closest to the window, with Carol next to him, Burt next to her, and Finn across the aisle next to Burt. From Finn's general direction Kurt could hear kissy noises. Kurt shot Finn a nasty look and stuck his tongue out. "You're just jealous, _Finnegan_."

Finn snorted and unbuckled his seatbelt.

xoxoxo

Kurt wasn't entirely sure where to meet Dave; after all, he couldn't get too close to the terminal without a ticket. Kurt decided once he got to baggage claim he would call Dave and figure out where to meet him from there. When they got to baggage claim, Dave beat Kurt to the punch. Prompted by a quick _bzzzz_ from his vibrating phone, he looked down at the screen.

***Wow, someone tans nicely***

Kurt looked around; there were a lot of people all standing around waiting for the carousel to start delivering bags and suitcases. Kurt separated himself from the crowd, constantly surveying the area. Finally, he spotted a familiar black and red Redwings hat. Dave smiled at Kurt and outstretched his arms when he realized Kurt had finally noticed him. Dave's arm cast had come off about a month ago, giving Dave significant more freedom. Kurt returned Dave's smile and rushed into his waiting arms and lap. _Damn these stupid butterflies in my stomach! Calm down guys, it's just Dave._ Dave wrapped one arm around Kurt's back and hooked his other arm under Kurt's legs. "Hey, Hummel. I've missed you. I've got a surprise for you."

Kurt nuzzled his nose into Dave's cheek. He really didn't want anything from Dave right now; he was just desperate for some physical contact. Hawaii had _far_ too many men in nothing but shorts, trunks…and _Speedos_. God Kurt had missed Dave during spring break. Kurt could feel Dave shift his bad leg underneath him. Something felt…different. Suddenly, Dave was standing up, holding Kurt in his arms. "Whoa! What are you doing?"

Dave released Kurt's legs, slowly lowering him to a standing position. Kurt stood back and looked Dave up and down. Dave had most of his weight balanced on his left leg, but he was still _standing_. "I got my cast off _last_ Friday. That's why I didn't see you off at the airport. Andreas and I have been working overtime on the therapy all this week."

"Oh, my god, Dave! That's phenomenal. But are you really okay to be standing? Or lifting me up?" Kurt wrapped his arms around Dave's shoulders and kissed him under the chin.

"I can stand for a little while at a time and you hardly count as 'heavy lifting.' But I still have a few more weeks of normal therapy and equine therapy." Kurt was still nuzzling Dave under the chin, occasionally pulling at the loose skin with his teeth. "I drove myself here, so we can go _anywhere_ and do _anything_. You have no idea how good it is to be able to drive again. And _walk_. And take showers _standing up_ and reach crap on the shelves in the kitchen and sleep in _my own_ room."

Burt, Carol and Finn came over then, their bags (and Kurt's matching Louis Vitton luggage) in tow. Burt was the first to notice Dave was not in his chair. "Hey buddy, way to go! One step closer to getting back on the gridiron!"

Dave blushed and shrugged one shoulder. "I'm probably not going back to football. I'll just stick with hockey, if the doctors are willing to sign me over." Burt put his hand out and Dave took it, shaking it politely. Burt stepped closer, and taking his hand back from Dave put his arm around Dave's shoulders and hugged him. Carol attacked Dave with a full-on frontal hug. Her head came up to the top of Dave's chest and her arms wrapped around his lower ribs. Dave positively _towered_ over Carol. If Kurt didn't know any better, he could swear Dave had grown since the last time Kurt had seen him standing. _How long ago was that? November? December?_

Finn came up next, taking Dave's hand into a tight squeeze. "Don't think I'm gonna hug you or anything, Dave."

"Aw, damn. I was hoping you, me and Kurt could have a threesome." Thankfully Burt and Carol had left earshot for that little comment while they went in search of a luggage trolley. Kurt smacked Dave in the stomach. Apparently a week away from Kurt and Dave's training had regressed. "What? That would be total _win_cest."

Kurt actually laughed at that, but Finn looked positively disgusted. "Ah, man! That's just _wrong_. On _way_ too many levels."

Kurt stood on tiptoe and kissed Dave deeply on the lips. "I kind of missed your sense of humor this week." Dave parted his lips to allow Kurt access. Kurt ran his tongue along the top of Dave's palette while Dave teased at the little web of skin beneath Kurt's tongue.

Finn backed away from them awkwardly. "Okay, umm…it looks like mom and Burt are out of here, so you two have fun…or whatever. Bye."

Dave put his hands on the sides of Kurt's head and pulled him back, suppressing a whimper as he did so. Kurt was still teasing him about what he called Dave's "pitiful little puppy noises." "So, what do we want to do first?"

xoxoxo

Dave was reclining in a comfy faux-leather salon chair while some cute little blonde chick gave his feet a massage. Kurt was reclining next to him while a second masseuse worked on his feet. It had taken quite a bit of convincing to get Dave to agree to go on a spa date with Kurt. Dave was kind of enjoying himself though.

He was very self-conscious about wearing nothing but shorts now that his leg cast was off. The skin was still puckered and pale, but Kurt didn't seem to notice or mind. The foot massage was truly blissful. Dave was glad he had agreed to do this with Kurt. There was no way in hell he was going to get a wax or anything (and Kurt didn't want him to get one either) but massages, a mani-pedi and a facial didn't sound too horrible.

The little blonde thing had already cleaned and shaped Dave's nails on both his hands and feet. Dave looked at his finger nails appraisingly. It was weird to see the cuticles all even and the nails rounded off (instead of bitten off). "I do believe you're trying to change me, Mr. Hummel."

"I do believe you are correct, Mr. Karofsky. If we are going to date, you are not going to be dragging your knuckles in the dirt."

Dave chuckled. "Aw, man, but I'm a lot faster on all fours."

Kurt petted Dave's arm. "It's okay, once we get some skates back on you, you'll be super fast all over again." Kurt wasn't really trying to change Dave. He liked him just the way he was (except for some of his more indecent comments and jokes); he was just trying to _polish_ him a bit.

xoxoxo

They went to Dave's house after their spa treatment. Dave's face felt all weird and tingly. His nose kind of hurt too. While both he and Kurt were against Dave getting a wax, Kurt had insisted Dave do something about the mini forest up Dave's nostrils.

As "luck" would have it, none of Dave's family was home when they got there. The maroon drapes had been removed from Dave's makeshift bedroom and it had been put back together as a family room. Kurt stood on the bottom step inside the house, waiting for Dave to direct him where to go. Dave pointed him up the stairs. "Second door on the right and straight on till morning."

Kurt gave Dave a befuddled look. "Huh?"

"Seriously, Hummel? I thought you were the musical buff. Peter Pan? Neverland? Second star to the right and straight on till morning?"

Kurt raised the corner of his lip in a sneer. "Meh. Mary Martin isn't exactly my fave or anything." Turning around he followed Dave's directions to the bedroom. When he got to the top of the stairs he looked down at Dave. Dave was limping weakly up the stairs, using the banister for support. "Do you need some help getting up here, Dave?"

"No, I'm fine. I should just get a cane like Greg House." It took about a minute, but Dave finally caught up with Kurt.

"I'm more of a Grey's Anatomy fan myself."

Dave gave Kurt a light shove towards the bedroom. "Damn, you're being difficult today. If I say 'up' are you going to say 'down?'" Kurt smiled and licked his lips. Grabbing Dave by the collar, he pulled him down into another kiss. Dave leaned into the kiss, forcing Kurt's back against, what Kurt assumed, was the door to Dave's bedroom. Kurt reached behind him and twisted the doorknob. He slowly pulled away from Dave's kiss and entered into the decently sized room. Kurt plopped himself down on Dave's bed. Dave came after him, pulling his shirt up and over his head as he approached. As his shirt went over his head his hat came off. The scars were a soft pink color now, but still fully visible. Dave had become a lot less sensitive about them recently, but it had still taken a while for the masseuse to get him to take his hat off in order for him to get his facial.

When he got to Kurt, he straddled him on the bed, grinding their crotches together and tugging Kurt's shirt up and over his head. Dave leaned over and kissed Kurt's gorgeous tanned chest. Normally, Dave loved how pale Kurt's skin was, but the tan was a nice temporary change. As Dave nipped at Kurt's collarbone he lifted one of his legs and pushed it in between Kurt's legs. He did the same with his other leg so that he was now positioned in a way that allowed Kurt to wrap his legs around Dave's hips. Dave lowered his hands down to Kurt's butt and started fondling his cheeks.

Kurt wrapped his arms around Dave's neck and pulled him closer. He lifted his head up, seeking Dave's earlobe. He pulled it into his mouth and began sucking on it. Kurt unwound his arms from Dave's neck and brought his hands to Dave's chest, curling his fingers into the lovely black hair and tugging lightly on it.

Dave lifted Kurt's butt slightly off the bed and pulled it into his lap. Dave swiveled his hips against Kurt's groin causing Kurt to bite down sharply on Dave's ear. "Ughhh…" Dave pulled his ear out of Kurt's mouth and lowered his own mouth down to Kurt's. He took Kurt's lower lip between his teeth and jerked it gently. Kurt giggled and pushed himself against Dave roughly. Kurt was positive his lips were going to be swollen when they were done, _if_ they weren't already. He really couldn't care less.

Kurt thrust himself against Dave. They had had plenty of heavy petting sessions since that first time they made out, but never had they gone all the way. Kurt had to constantly remind himself that his first time _could not_ be with Dave. It was bad enough that his first real kiss had been forced on him, but his first time would definitely be with someone he truly loved. Even still, his body complained deeply against that resolve as he continuously ground his crotch into Dave. Dave bucked against Kurt, startling him. Dave began thrusting rhythmically against his boyfriend; finally being able to "top" Kurt, so to speak, was an enormous turn on for him. He was used to lying on his back while Kurt did whatever he pleased. Now Dave was the one in control and he was very quickly _losing_ that control.

Dave thrust roughly against Kurt a few more times before pressing himself painfully hard against Kurt and moaning as he came. When he was finally done releasing himself, he could feel Kurt stroking one of his cheeks while lightly and rapidly kissing his other cheek. Dave brought one of his hands off of Kurt's ass and around to his front, touching Kurt through his jeans. "Do you want me to?" Even though Kurt had been letting Dave touch him there for a few weeks now, Dave still felt compelled to ask each time. Kurt nodded and felt himself shiver pleasantly as Dave slipped his hand beneath his pants and into his underwear. As Dave took Kurt in his hands and began massaging his erection, Kurt smiled contentedly.

_I may not be in love with Dave, but I am certainly in love with this_.


	28. Happy Birthday, Max Adler

Happy Birthday Mr. Max Adler

Will you be my squishy?

xoxoxo

May 12th

"_Happy birthday to you_"

As the chorus of singing died down Dave blew out the candles on his birthday cupcakes that Kurt had made him. _Damn, these guys even make "Happy Birthday" sound like a Billboard hit_. New Directions (i.e. Kurt) had decided to throw Dave a birthday party in lieu of having glee practice. Gunnar and Todd had both joined up with New Directions after their Backstreet Boys performance and Kurt had had the foresight to invite some of Dave's other friends from the hockey team, including Marshall. All in all, including Mr. Schu, there were nineteen gleeks and hockey players all here for his eighteenth birthday party in the choir room. It was Dave's biggest birthday party that didn't involve liquor and he was rather touched.

Kurt sashayed throughout the room offering up the small chocolate cakes to each of the party-goers. Rachel, however waved him away when he offered her one. "Come-on Rachel, have one. They're low-fat and vegan." Rachel eyed Kurt cautiously, not quite certain whether or not to trust him after the Skittles fiasco. "I promise you Rachel, no animals were in any way molested in the making of these tasty little fudge brownie cupcakes."

Dave scoffed at that. "I seem to recall you smacking my ass while I was whipping the frosting."

Finn almost choked on the cupcake that he had unceremoniously shoved into his mouth whole. Kurt shot Dave a sultry look. His eyes looked smoky. _Is he wearing makeup?_ "Fine. _Other_ than Donkey Kong over there, no animals were molested in the making of these soy and vegan cream cheese-based delicacies."

Rachel picked up one of Kurt's gourmet cupcakes and nibbled on it daintily. "So, has Dave asked you yet?" It wasn't _quite_ a stage whisper, so Dave could hear Rachel fairly well. Kurt took a seat next to her and passed off the tray of cupcakes to Mike.

Taking a bite from his own cupcake Dave suppressed a little face. _I don't know what "vegan cream cheese" comes from, but there's a damn good chance it isn't on the endangered species list._ He was mildly grateful his diet had soothed his food cravings enough that he could force the strange tasting desert down. While trying not to focus on the texture of the cupcake he eaves dropped on Kurt and Rachel. "As a matter of fact, he did ask me. We're going tux shopping this weekend." _Oh, prom. Of course_.

Mercedes, who apparently was also part of the conversation squealed with delight and clapped her hands together rapidly. Tina, also in on the conversation, input her own two cents. "I don't know much about prom traditions and whatever, but isn't it kind of like a wedding?" Dave was the one to nearly choke on his cupcake this time. It was difficult eating, eaves dropping, and pretending to listen to Marshall and Gunnar talk about a baseball game they watched last night all while hearing Tina talk about him and Kurt _marrying_. Dave forced that image, welcome as it may be, out of his head. "I mean, is he supposed to see what you're wearing before prom?"

Kurt let out a very unmanly-like titter. "Oh, believe me. I have had my tux picked out for _ages_. We're going to find _his_ tux. You think I'd trust him to dress himself?" Dave raised one eyebrow and looked pointedly at Kurt. Kurt noticed Dave's look of incredulity and waggled his fingers at Dave in a little wave. Dave didn't return the greeting, so Kurt pursed his lips and smirked at Dave. "Oh, please. Don't even pretend you know how to dress for prom, David. If I let you, you'd show up in a polo and jeans. Or worse…_sweats_!"

Dave rolled his eyes and licked his bottom lip. "It's prom. You wear a tux. How hard can it be?"

Kurt crossed his legs at the knees and placed both hands delicately in his lap. "Oh? What _color_ tux, Dave? Cummerbund or no? Material? Lapel width? Bow-tie, cravat, or traditional tie? Shoes? Shirt color?"

Dave could feel his head starting to hurt. "Okay, okay. You pick it out; I try it on. Deal?"

Kurt smiled. Dave wasn't sure if his smile was affectionate or self-satisfied, but, so long as Kurt was happy, he was happy. "Deal."

Dave was looking forward to prom with Kurt. He, along with Puck and Finn had a little surprise in store. More of the party guests had begun talking prom; after all, it was only two weeks away. Talk quickly went to who was taking whom, what the girls (plus Kurt) were doing to 'beautify' themselves before hand, what the guys (not including Kurt) were planning for transportation and post-prom partying, and what they thought of the theme (A Night Under the Stars…to be held in the gym)

The chubby-chick from AV club, who Dave had since learned was named Lauren, watched Puck out of the corner of her eye. She looked very uncomfortable with all the prom talk. Eventually, Puck noticed her watching him and smiled pleasantly at her. She sucked in her bottom lip and looked away. Puck's smile disappeared slowly and he too looked away.

Todd was busy flirting with Santana, who seemed to be completely oblivious (or just nonplussed) by Todd's obvious infatuation. Marshall, who had no interest in prom at all sat down next to Dave. Dave had just been discussing black limos versus white limos with Artie. Dave liked the classical beauty of the traditional white limo while Artie liked classiness of a black limo. When the conversation reached an impasse, Marshall changed the topic. "So, you have to testify soon, don't you?" The conversations in Dave's immediate vicinity seemed to lull, and like a ripple in a pond, the silence spread throughout the room.

Dave could feel his face heating up. He really didn't like being put on the spot like this. "Ummm…yeah. May 25th, I think."

Mike sneered at that. "Dude, two days before prom. That _sucks_."


	29. Testimony

**Two quick author notes:**

**1) I substitute teach any position they need me for in the fifth grade. Today I was subbing for someone who does **_**absolutely**_** nothing, which meant I got to do absolutely nothing today. So I wrote. At least four times I got comments from my students Ms. S*****, that's a **_**lot**_** of cursive. LOL, I love my fifth graders so much. I just thought it was really cute.**

**2) My mother has just caught up on season two. I need your help, fellow Kurtofskians. My mother is being held hostage by the Klaine Train. I think she might have Stockholm's Syndrome and I have it on good authority that the Kum Kanoe is assisting in the brain washing. I need some fellow buccaneers to offer up advice on how I can get her onto the Kurtofsky Pirate Ship. (For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, I would send you the totally adorable picture, but I seem to have lost it. If those of you who know the picture I'm talking about can find it for me, I'd be much obliged. It's a cartoon explanation of the Kurt ships [lol, courtship/kurtship, same diff]).**

**xoxoxo**

Aside from the infrequent blink, Dave wasn't moving. He just sat there, statuesque on a bench outside the courtroom. His head was down, unfocusedly staring at a spot on the floor just in front of his feet. His back was hunched; his shoulders sagged. Kurt doubted Dave had even noticed when he sat down beside him on the bench, or when he began rubbing his hand up and down Dave's back.

They were waiting for Dave to get called in for his testimony. Both he and Kurt had declined to sit through most of the proceedings, instead, attending only the pleas, the opening arguments, their own testimonies and, when the time came, the verdicts. Paul and Burt, who were both already seated in the courtroom, had attended most of the trial.

Kurt didn't have to testify until the following week, but he wanted to be with Dave. Kurt had been made stronger by the attack; if he could survive that, he could survive anything. But Dave, he had been so strong and fearless before the assault. The only thing that had ever scared him was his own feelings for Kurt. Now, he was painfully aware of his own frailty. Even still, Dave didn't look scared today. Or even nervous. His hardened gaze merely appeared determined.

Kurt startled slightly as the door to the courtroom opened, a uniformed officer, a bailiff Kurt assumed, held it open for them. Dave stood and straightened out his shirt and tie. Joan had dressed Dave well this morning; black dress shoes, slate grey trousers, pussy-willow grey shirt, a silver and black paisley tie and no hat. Paul had forbid it.

Kurt took Dave's hand; Dave looked down at it, his expression non-existent. Even still, Dave gave Kurt's hand a little squeeze before letting it go. Dave filed confidently into the courtroom, his stride even and brisk. Kurt fell into step behind him and took a seat gestured to him by Mrs. Noclus, one of the prosecuting attorneys. Dave continued on to take his place beside the judge.

A clerk approached David and went through the routine of the swearing in. "Raise your right hand." Dave did as he was instructed and the clerk continued to recite the oath. David affirmed and took his seat when instructed. Tucker Jackson, Dave and Kurt's second lawyer, got up and greeted Dave. Dave nodded and returned the greeting with a "hey." The prosecution then asked David to recount the events of that night back in January in his own words.

David had practiced his recitation of the events innumerable times; to the police, to his family in the hospital, to nosy kids at school, to Paul and the lawyers when they coached him on specific details. By now, David had relived that night so many times he felt separate and apart from it: as though he were describing the events of a movie.

Kurt didn't like how Dave's testimony was going so far; he was emotionless, clinical almost. Dave even tried going into a medical analysis of what exactly had happened internally as they broke his bones. Tucker had to steer Dave away from his medical critique and back to the narrative of the incident. Dave continued on about how he had tried to persuade them to leave Kurt alone and concluded with how they had attempted to slit Kurt's throat when the police came. That last part, about Kurt, was the only part of Dave's testimony so far that had any emotion attached to it. Tucker was about to start with his second question when he stopped. The lawyer had felt something slightly off about Dave's recount. Kurt had felt it too. Something was not quite right. "Mr. Karofsky, have you told the entirety of the events exactly as you recall them?"

Dave looked nauseous. His eyes went wide and mildly panic-stricken. As the color drained from his face, his beauty marks became accentuated along with the pallor of his lips and every imperfection. Kurt realized what Dave had intentionally skipped. Dave raised his hand tenderly to his forehead, his hand trembling ever so slightly. "Uh…yeah. After I told them that _I_ was the real fag, not Kurt, Tony came over to me and pulled out a knife."

"Objection! Speculation. It could have been any of the defendants."

The judge nodded and turned to the stenographer. "Scratch that last remark."

"One of the guys came over to me with a knife. A switchblade, I think." Dave looked off to the side as he spoke, desperate to avoid any eye contact. _I am alone in my room…just talking to myself._ Kurt could see Dave shaking as he went over what they both knew _Tony_ had done to him. Near the end of this part of his narration, Dave tensed, trying to still the shudders running throughout his shoulders and chest. Instead, his shaking all concentrated into his face and he lost all semblance of composure. Dave started whimpering: sad little squeaks. Kurt desperately wanted to pull him into his arms and make the pain go away. Dave covered his face in his hands, the sobbing wracking through his body. After a few moments, even though Dave felt he no longer needed to cry out of the terror of reliving getting carved up like a jack-o-lantern, he couldn't stop crying out of shame.

"Judge, I'd like to request a recess."

The judge granted them a fifteen-minute recess so Dave could get himself together. Kurt wanted to be there for Dave, but his father and the lawyers were monopolizing him. Instead, Kurt went over to his own father. "The kid looked like a robot up there for a minute."

Kurt sat down beside his father. "Yeah. Dave still has issues regulating his emotions. Sometimes it's all or nothing with him; there's very little in between." Burt pulled his son into a hug and Kurt could hear him mumble something about how brave Kurt was being, but most of it was muffled by Kurt's hair. "Dad, I think Dave's going to need some support from someone who knows what he's going through. Is it okay if I spend the night with him?"

Burt thought about it for a minute. He wasn't thrilled with the idea of his seventeen-year-old son spending the night with his boyfriend, but on the other hand, he trusted Kurt…_and_ Dave. That last thought kind of surprised Burt. And Dave certainly didn't look like he'd be in the mood for anything of _any_ kind, let alone frisky. "Ask Paul." Kurt raised his eyebrow, giving Burt a "you're joking, right?" look. Burt chuckled. "Yeah, okay." Both Burt and Kurt knew by now that Paul did whatever Joan wanted and Joan wanted whatever made her baby boy happy.

"Thanks, Dad."

xoxoxo

Kurt felt like he was sleeping with a boa constrictor on fire. Dave had his arms wrapped around Kurt in a death grip and was almost feverishly hot. They had been lying in bed together for about half an hour, neither able to sleep. Kurt had his head wedged between Dave's shoulder and neck. Despite the way Dave was clinging to Kurt for dear life, Kurt was very comfortable. He felt mildly bad that David was anything but comfortable. Dave let out a tiny sniffle and nuzzled against Kurt's cheek.

"It's okay if you cry, Dave."

Kurt could feel Dave shake his head against his face. "If I cry anymore I'll either drown or become dehydrated."

Kurt smiled, happy Dave seemed to be in a slightly better mood. The afternoon had been a disaster. Dave just sat in the living room, staring off into space. He looked like he was in shock. Kurt had been unconscious for the hours immediately following their rescue by police, but he was positive Dave was worse at this moment than he had been then. "It's okay, Dave. You don't have to be worried anymore. Even their lawyers aren't claiming their innocence. The trial is just a formality. They're just trying to figure out who is responsible for which actions. They'll all be in jail soon."

Dave shook his head again. "But they aren't alone. There are other nutcases out there like that. You said it yourself, I could have _become_ one of those nutcases."

"Oh, Dave. I was angry with you when I said that. I doubt you could ever become nearly as bad as them. It's okay to be afraid. Just don't let it consume you." Kurt ran his hand up and down Dave' chest, trying to sooth him.

"It's a stupid fear, though. Everyone I know is pretty much okay with us being gay. Either that or they're too afraid to start shit. But anytime I see a new face, all I can think about is whether or not they're gonna say something, or do something. I'm kind of unreasonable about it."

"It's okay to have unreasonable fears. Even though, after what happened to us, it's a _very_ reasonable fear. You know what's an unreasonable fear? I was afraid of the dark until I was like…_twelve_." Kurt could hear and feel Dave snort against his head. "I'm serious. Even though I knew it was stupid, I was _terrified_ some monster would come out of my closet and eat me."

"Awwww…Kurt, you don't have to be afraid of that."

"No? Why's that?" Kurt smiled, expecting Dave to say something romantic like he'd protect him from the monsters or something of the sort.

"You don't have to be afraid of the monster in your closet. I don't live in the closet anymore, remember?"

Kurt pushed on Dave's chest, forcing him back a few inches. Dave was smiling at him. He was so handsome when he was happy. Kurt tilted his head forward and kissed Dave chastely on the lips. "Go to sleep, Mr. Monster. We still have school tomorrow."


	30. Prom Night

Dave was doing his best to sit still, but this was taking a _lot_ longer than he had expected. When he had asked Tina to use makeup to hide his scar for prom night he had thought it would just be _swish, swish_ scar gone. Instead, he had been forced to sit patiently for twenty minutes while Tina covered the scar and then blended the makeup in with the rest of his face. When she was finally finished, she handed Dave a mirror. He had definitely asked the right girl to help him; his scar was nearly invisible. With the dim lighting of the gymnasium, no one would be able to see it. Dave smiled and thanked Tina. They were hanging out at her house as they waited for their limo to show up. Kurt and Dave were tripling up a limo with Tina and Mike and Finn and Rachel. After school, Dave had gone home just long enough to get changed into his tux sans the jacket.

To Dave, the tux Kurt had selected for him looked like every other tux on earth. It was a traditional black tuxedo, with an "azure" vest ("No, it's _not_ **blue**, David. Blue is darker than azure, silly!"), an azure tie with diagonal black striping and a black collared shirt underneath. He also had an azure handkerchief for the pocket of the jacket, but it had fallen out and Dave couldn't figure out to refold it. His shoes were typical patent leather men's shoes. Dave didn't know why Kurt had stressed so much over finding Dave the perfect outfit. He was pretty confident he could have gotten something like this on his own.

"Tina! Dave! The limo's out front!" Tina's dad yelled up the stairs. Tina squeaked and bounced up from her seat on the floor. Dave followed after her, albeit a bit more slowly. Sitting on the floor hadn't been the best idea; Dave's knee was still stiff and his knee brace made it difficult to sit comfortably on the floor, but Dave didn't like to complain.

Tina's dress was a giant poofy purple and black ballerina-styled dress. The bodice and top of the tule skirt were black and the bottom foot or so looked as though it had been dipped into grape colored paint. Her hair was swept up in an intentionally messy bun with black and purple decorative comb pinning it in place. Her eye shadow and lipstick was purple as well. All in all, Tina didn't look half bad.

She had to sweep half the dress up as she skipped down the stairs. Dave kept in step and hopped down after her. "Bye mom! Bye dad! See you tomorrow."

"Home by midnight, Tina!"

They were already out the front door when her father had said it, but Tina still heard and groaned in response. "Not like I'll turn into a freakin' pumpkin or anything."

xoxoxo

Kurt sat in front of his vanity, looking himself over, yet again. His hair was perfectly coiffed over in his typical side-swept part, his nails were all perfectly smoothed and rounded, his blush was applied perfectly to downplay the sharpness of his cheekbones (he was already so thin, that sharpened cheekbones made him look hawkish), and he had only applied thin sheen of lip-gloss; the scarlet of his vest and tie made his lips look bright red and eliminated the need for lipstick. Kurt heard his bedroom door open and Carol's light steps come down the stairs. Carol wrapped her arms around Kurt's shoulders and kissed him on the crown of his head. Kurt leaned back against her and sighed contentedly. Carol leaned in close to his ear, "Limo just pulled up."

Dave was sitting in the living room across from Burt. Burt looked somewhat awkward sitting across from Dave, neither of them talking. Burt was busy in thought trying to replay in his head just how exactly Dave came to be sitting across from him. What had it been? _Six_ months since they were sitting in the principal's office discussing how Dave was a menace to society? Dave, on the other hand, was analyzing Burt. Burt was a manly man. The type of guy Dave pretended to be; macho and tough. Burt had seen Dave break down and cry the other day; _He must think I'm the ultimate pussy_.

Carol and Kurt came up the stairs silently and got to see the two men sitting across from each other briefly before they were noticed. Both Kurt and Carol saw how exactly alike the two were; both masculine and athletic, same general build, both passionate and protective of the people and things they loved, both insecure, both gentle and tender.

Burt looked up and saw his son. Dave turned around and felt his heart catch in his throat at the site of Kurt. Kurt's tux was identical to Dave's…only inverted. Kurt tux and shirt were white, with a scarlet tie, scarlet vest, and scarlet handkerchief. Dave had to admit, he had been kind of nervous Kurt would show up to prom looking like a Lady Gaga wet dream. Instead, he looked absolutely stunning. Dave stood up and came around the couch, placing a hand on Kurt's hip and his other hand between Kurt's shoulder blades he tilted Kurt backwards and kissed him full on the lips. When Dave brought Kurt back up to the standing position, Kurt was flushed and smiling. Dave returned the smile and both boys were suddenly seeing spots as Carol began the obligatory pre-prom photo shoot.

xoxoxo

Dave was an astoundingly good dancer, so long as they were slow dancing. He sat out most of the "normal" dances or otherwise made friends with the cheese platters and chocolate fondue fountain. Kurt didn't mind, he had Mercedes and Tina to do fast dances with.

After one particularly wonderful dance with Mercedes ("Another Night" by Real McCoy) Kurt went in search of Dave. His first stop was the finger food buffet, second stop, the virgin wet bar, third stop, "Rachel, have you seen Dave?"

Rachel shook her head and was about to speak when Lauren butt in. "He's helping Puck hide from me." Kurt looked at Lauren, somewhat surprised. Had she and Puck had a fight? He thought they were happy together? "Everything was going great, until I told Puckerman I wanted to dance. He looked at his watch, said 'later' and then went off with Dave."

"Was Finn with them? Because he said he was going to the little boys' room about ten minutes ago and I haven't seen him since." Rachel looked a tad-bit livid. As far as she was concerned, this was _her_ prom and Finn damn well _better_ not mess it up for her.

Quinn came over with Sam on her arm. Scooping up a cup of punch from behind the group of ditched dates she smiled smugly. "You should keep a tighter leash on them. _Mine_ doesn't even need a leash."

As Quinn turned around with her punch and obedient little dog Kurt and Rachel made identical sneers at her. Lauren could have been as well, but she generally had a sneer on her face, so it was difficult to tell.

"She Will Be Loved" by Maroon 5 died down on the speakers and the _sound_ of the music changed. Kurt considered himself to have an excellent musical ear and the music playing was a lot _fuller_ than the previous songs had been. The quality of the song was almost like a live performance. _But the school didn't spring for a band, New Directions would have known, especially Quinn and Santana since they were on the prom committee_. Kurt turned towards the stage where the DJ had been set up. Brad was there with the piano from the choir room. Kurt had noticed the piano there earlier, but had assumed it was merely for aesthetic appeal. Also set up on the stage was the drum set from the jazz band. _That definitely wasn't there earlier_.

Finn sat behind the drum set, beat out a gentle, steady rhythm. Puck, on guitar followed a similar beat. And there he was, behind the microphone. _Dave's doing a _public_ performance? Where'd_ this _come from?_

_I'm not a perfect person_

_There's many things I wish I didn't do_

_But I continue learning_

_I never meant to do those things to you_

_And so I have to say before I go_

_That I just want you to know_

_I've found a reason for me_

_To change who I used to be_

_A reason to start over new_

_And the reason is you_

Dave was watching Kurt, a soft smile on his lips. Kurt blushed and lowered his eyes coyly.

_I'm sorry that I hurt you_

_It's something I must live with every day_

_And all the pain I put you through_

_I wish that I could take it all away_

_And be the one who catches all your tears_

_That's why I need you to hear_

_I've found a reason for me_

_To change who I used to be_

_A reason to start over new_

_And the reason is you_

_And the reason is you_

_And the reason is you_

_And the reason is you_

_I'm not a perfect person_

_I never meant to do those things to you_

_And so I have to say before I go_

_That I just want you to know_

_I've found a reason for me_

_To change who I used to be_

_A reason to start over new_

_And the reason is you_

_I've found a reason to show_

_A side of me you didn't know_

_A reason for all that I do_

_And the reason is you_

New Directions' reformed "bully boys," plus Dave put their instruments and microphones aside. Kurt ran into Dave's awaiting arms and was rewarded with getting swept up into an amazing teddy bear hug. Rachel too rushed into Finn's arms and was scooped up under the knees so that he was cradling her in his arms. Lauren ran up to Puck, he fanned out his arms as he saw her coming at him and momentary look of panic floated over his eyes as he thought she was going to tackle him. Instead, Lauren lifted Puck up in her hug, nearly choking him in the process.

Kurt intertwined his fingers with Dave's and pulled him towards the gym's exit. They didn't say anything to each other as they snuck out past the chaperones and onto the football field. Kurt led Dave up the bleachers; Dave was truly confused as to what Kurt's intentions were. But then he felt fear grip at his chest for a moment. _This is_ prom! _What if Kurt wants to have sex? I love him and all, but I've only been okay with being a homo for a few months now. I'm_ _NOT_ _ready for gay sex. _

Kurt turned around so that he was facing Dave, and placing both his hands on Dave's shoulders pushed him into sitting on one of the bleacher benches. Kurt began kneeling down next to Dave, continuing to guide Dave's shoulders so that Dave was forced to lie back on the seat. Kurt cupped his hands on the side of Dave's face and leaned in for a passionate, deep kiss. He stroked Dave's cheek with one of his hands before trailing it down Dave's chest and to the fly of Dave's trousers. Dave could feel Kurt tugging at the button on his pants and Kurt fingers slip down into Dave's pants. He almost bit Kurt's tongue when he felt Kurt's hand slide in through the fly on his boxers.

He and Kurt had had plenty of hot and heavy make out sessions before and, while Dave had masturbated Kurt plenty of times; Kurt had never touched Dave in that way. Dave was already hard in anticipation of Kurt. Kurt wrapped his fingers around Dave's manhood and began gliding his hand up and down. Kurt felt himself get slightly jealous of Dave, he couldn't tell if Dave was longer than himself, but he was definitely _thicker_. Kurt let his thumb slide over the crease between Dave's shaft and head.

If Kurt had thought Dave's chest was hot the other night, then his penis was burning. The heat radiating off of Dave's nether regions was incredible. Sliding his hand back down the shaft, Kurt could make out Dave's pulse through a throbbing vein along the length of his penis.

Dave brought one of his hands behind Kurt's head and pulled him in closer for a deeper, almost violently aggressive, kiss. Kurt bit down on Dave's lip and began stroking his length faster. During one stroke he brought his hand up and over the head, palming it and then fingering the little slit a bit on the down stroke.

Dave's breath began coming more erratically, short a shallow one moment, long and deep the next. Suddenly, Dave stopped returning Kurt's kiss and became incredibly tense. His eyes screwed shut, his nose scrunched up, and the corners of his upper lip curled into a grimace. Kurt smiled and continued his pace on Dave's cock. Dave threw his head back (over the side of the bench seat, thankfully) and began his orgasm. Kurt could feel Dave's warm wetness all over his hand. After a few moments, Dave's facial expression returned to a blissful serenity. Kurt wiped his wand off on Dave's boxer shorts before zipping Dave's fly back up and buttoning him closed.

Kurt ran his other hand through Dave's short curls. Dave opened his eyes slowly and smiled up goofily at Kurt. "You look _pissed_ when you cum."

Dave's smile broadened. "Yeah, I know. My face always hurts after I jizz." Kurt leaned down and kissed Dave's nose. "So, why out here? Why not the locker room or something?"

Kurt shrugged. I figured the locker rooms and choir room were probably already taken. Besides, this is so…_public._ Makes me feel naughty."

Dave sat up and pulled Kurt into his lap. "You are _naughty_. First time we made out, my parents were two rooms over. Then there was that time you asked me to jack you in my living room. Now this. I think you _want_ to get caught." Kurt blushed and ground his butt against Dave's crotch. "Hehe. You little exhibitionist, you."

xoxoxo

Burt hadn't heard either of the boys return last night and thought the worst. _Maybe my trust in them was misplaced?_ Finn's bedroom was on the second floor, next to his and Carol's so he checked there first. Slipping the door open a crack, he peeked in. Finn was asleep, fully dressed on his stomach atop the bed sheets, his feet hanging over the end of the too-short bed. Burt nodded, pleased. _One down, one to go_.

Burt continued down the hall and down the first flight of stairs. Opening Kurt's bedroom door ever so quietly, he continued down Kurt's stairs. The first thing he saw was a shirtless Dave stretched out diagonally across Kurt's bed in nothing but his boxers. Burt shook his head, somewhat disappointed in his son. That is, until he spotted Kurt on the other side of the room, asleep curled up on his couch.

Burt flicked on the ceiling light, waking up both boys. He looked over the two. "Breakfast in half an hour, okay?"

Xoxoxo

The song is "The Reason" by Hoobastank

If you want to see Kurt's tux, Google image search "After Six White La Strada". If you want to see Dave's tux and you have a Mac, Google image search "After Six White La Strada" and hold down control + option + command and 8. If you do not have a Mac, save the image, open it in paint and invert the colors (the blue will be much brighter than what I picture, however).


	31. Summer

The summer was drawing to a close. Kurt, for one, would be sad to see it end. He, Dave and Courtney had spent most of the summer hanging out together; Courtney and Kurt dragging Dave to the theatres, Dave and Courtney dragging Kurt to the skating rink, Dave and Kurt dragging Courtney to the beach. Road trips had become the name of the game over the summer. True, Kurt and Dave would still have plenty of time to hang out during the year, but Courtney was going off to college in a week. Kurt would definitely miss his new girlfriend.

"But why _that_ particular college? I mean, if you're going for mechanical engineering, go to an engineering college. Not an _art_ school." Courtney and Dave were on each side of Kurt as they skated the loop around the rink. Courtney had her arm interlinked with Kurt's and Dave was holding Kurt's hand. It was a familiar stance they had frequently taken, since Kurt had only learned to skate earlier that summer. He didn't rely as heavily on Courtney and Dave's stability as he had in the beginning, but it was comforting.

"Well…I mean you _go_ to a school because of its programs, but you stick with it because of its atmosphere, its organizations and clubs, the people, the _je ne sais quoi_."

"So what does it have that your other choices didn't?"

Courtney snorted. "Aside from being in _New York_?" Kurt shrugged, New York _was_ a definite bonus over some of Courtney's other choices. "They have intramural powder puff football, girls field hockey, an anime club, and some other cool stuff."

Dave unlatched his fingers from Kurt's and reached around him, poking Courtney roughly in the shoulder. "Anime club, huh? Sure it isn't a hentai club?"

Courtney pulled away from Kurt as well and skated on ahead of them, turning around and skating backwards to face them. "Oh, shut up Dave. I've seen some of the stuff _you_ keep on your computer." Court wasn't angry at all; she was in a playful mood at the moment. "I'm sure Kurt would _love_ to see _Hot Jocks: Fisting Fun_.

Kurt put his hands over his ears. "I really do _not_ want to hear any of this." Kurt wobbled away from them into the center of the rink where he could practice his balance without worrying about falling into anyone. Dave followed after Kurt while Courtney continued circling the perimeter. Dave stayed a few feet away from Kurt, ready to catch him if he saw him wobble. An older, balding man in a bright orange vest skated out into the center towards them.

"Hey Dave, coming back to work soon?" The middle aged gentleman reached out his hand to Dave and Dave shook it jovially.

"I'd have to ask my therapist, but I'm sure he'll let me go back to work."

Kurt stopped skating and watched the two. The man cocked his head to the side; "You're a hockey player, what do you need a therapist for? That's what opponents and plexi-glass walls are for."

Dave chuckled deeply and ran his hand through his hair. "P_hysical_ therapist. I need his go-ahead before I do anything 'new'. He says I should be fine for the upcoming hockey season though and if I _am_ up for it, then I'm gonna need as much ice-time as possible."

The man smiled and bobbed his head up and down pleasantly. "That's great. The pre-med college jackass we got acting as first aide since you left thinks he's House fucking M.D. He doesn't really get it. Just ice it up, tape it up and let them relax. I could really use you back here."

Dave smiled and shook the guy's hand again. "That's awesome, I'll keep you in the loop."

Dave's former boss skated back to the edge of the rink and jumped the waist-high wall dividing the ice from the front lobby.

"Claude just offer you your job back?" Kurt and Dave turned around to face Courtney. Apparently Kurt hadn't been the only one listening in on the conversation.

"Well it's not exactly like he ever wanted me to leave. I just didn't really have a choice you know.

Kurt skated over to Dave and took both his hands into his own to steady himself. Dave, feeling feisty skated around Kurt while still holding his hands, forcing Kurt to do a circle. Kurt felt like he was falling, but Dave held him up. Dave slowed his circle and pulled Kurt against his chest, nuzzling into his hair. Dave loved smelling Kurt's hair; it always smelled like a different fruit. Today it smelled like coconut. Kurt kissed Dave's chest. "I didn't know Andreas said you could play hockey so soon. What are you, superman?"

Dave turned Kurt around in his arms without releasing his hands so that Kurt's arms crossed across his chest. "He said 'probably'. Apparently I'm still growing so my bones can recover from a lot more than if I had gotten hurt at, say, twenty five, or thirty." _He's still growing? Is he in competition with Finn?_

"Yeah" Courtney interjected. "It's like babies." Both Kurt and Dave looked over at her, their confusion obvious on their faces. "Babies. Their bones are still soft and pliable so they can fall from higher relative heights than adults without getting hurt. They just _bounce_."

Kurt's mouth gaped slightly. "Um…Court? If I _ever_ have children, remind me to keep them _far_ away from you. Kay?"


	32. Welcome to Senior Year

**Let me just say, writing Sue is amazing good fun.**

**BTWs, this is the picture I referred to earlier:**

**h t t p : / / nouveau-charles dot deviantart dot com / art /kurt - ships - 194005621 ? q = boost%3Apopular%20kurtofsky &qo =95 **

**Take out the spaces and replace the dots with a .**

**Thank you White Replica for tracking it down.**

xoxoxo

"This is absolutely horrible! I cannot begin to tell you how upset the school board is." It was a professional development meeting for teachers to prepare them for the new school year; Figgins had been on a rant for about fifteen minutes about the school's terrible testing scores, nightmarish retention and dropout rates and, worst of all, the state report on the bullying statistics for McKinley's previous school year. "We came in _first_ for bullying incidents in _the state_! First in physical assault, first in cyber bullying, first in verbal assault! The only things we _didn't_ come in first for is sexual harassment and _murder_!"

Coach Sylvester snapped her fingers disappointedly, "_Damn. _Well there's always next year. Always go for the 'W,' I say."

Figgins rounded on her, his eyes wide, his expression livid. "This is _not_ a joke, Sue! A tenth of the bullying incidents involved _faculty_ as the aggressors. _Half_ of _those_ involved _you_!"

Sue shrugged. "I don't _bully_ the kids. Calling Christina Lucic a fat tub of useless lard isn't _bullying…_it's _motivation_. If she chooses to inhale Hershey's syrup like an elderly degenerative inhales bottled oxygen, she should expect to be compared to the rippling cellulite of an elephant's thigh.

"_Any_way," Figgins redirected the faculty from Sue's rant, turning his back to her to let her know that he had no interest in what she had to say. "The school board has mandated, with the state's backing, that we are to have required sensitivity training for everyone on the school's payroll, as well as for the entirety of the student body." Figgins ignored the chorus of moans and groans from throughout the room. "The school board is arranging for the Anti-Defamation League to host a day of tolerance training for the whole school."

As several faculty members began actively voicing their dissent, Will Schuester decided to attempt and talk some reason into their heads. "Think about it, guys. If the kids are being nicer to each other, then there will be less arguments for us to mediate, less fights to break up, less students lashing out at _us_. Think of it as self-preservation."

A math teacher Will had never really noticed nodded his agreement, "Less visits from Lima PD, less vandalism in the parking lots. I, for one, wouldn't mind being able to park my car in the lot without the need to check out the window twice a period to see if someone's lit it on fire."

"Oh, come _on_." It was Sue again, clearly not liking what she was hearing. "Do you really think eight hours of sitting around a campfire and singing 'Kumbaya' is going to do anything other than inspire students to set marshmallows on fire and turn them into projectile napalm? I'd rather have my Cheerio's sit through an eight hour seminar on healthy eating habits co-sponsored by Rob Reiner and William Shatner."

Figgins raised his hand, signaling Sue to stop talking. "It doesn't matter _what_ you think Sue. The date has _already_ been set. And Will? I would like your glee club to _help_ host it."

xoxoxo

Kurt and Dave were walking down the hall on their first day of senior year, hand in hand. "Can you believe it, Dave? We're seniors! This is so… _surreal_."

Dave quirked his lip up in a half smile. "Oh, yeah. I can believe it. I've had a _year_ to adjust to the idea of being a senior."

Kurt hip checked Dave, playfully. "It doesn't count if you don't do any work. How many homework assignments did you actually hand in last year?"

Dave made a weird "pp-sha" noise. "_I _learn by osmosis. If I sleep through class it all gets absorbed into my brain." Dave tapped his head for emphasis. Kurt leaned up on his tiptoes and pecked Dave on the head, right where he had tapped. Dave tilted his head back and met Kurt's kiss with one of his own. "See? I can even taste my smart-osity on your lips."

Kurt smiled and pulled a pen out of Dave's front jean pocket. They had come to a stop in front of the school activity board, a line of potential Cheerios off to the side waiting to sign up for cheerleading try-outs. Kurt signed his name up under "New Directions." Already signed up were "Rachel & Finn 3", Mercedes, Todd, Tina, and two names Kurt didn't recognize. It was still early, twenty minutes before first bell, so this was a very promising sign for New Directions. Hopefully there wouldn't be any risk of number shortages this year.

Kurt handed the pen back to Dave, knowing full well that Dave wouldn't attach himself to New Directions and instead he would show up when and where he pleased to perform. Kurt was rather surprised to see Dave uncap the pen and lean in (pressing his body against Kurt's and forcing him flat against the wall) signing his name on the "Ice-Titan" try-outs roster. "Andreas gave you a bill of clean health?"

Dave pulled a crumpled up note-pad paper out of his pocket coupled with a doctor's scrip. Dave held them up for Kurt to inspect. "Permission slip from Andreas." He tucked that one crudely back into his pocket. "Permission slip from my G.P." He shoved that one as well back in his pocket. "I plan on stopping off at the nurse's office today to get my final sign-off."

"That's great, Dave." Kurt gave Dave a genuine smile. "Do you want me to come to try-outs with you? They don't conflict with glee at all."

Dave took Kurt's hand in his and they continued off down the hall together, Kurt watching Dave expectantly. Dave's adorable little tongue rolled lazily over his bottom lip. "Nah. I doubt I'd be able to concentrate with you there." Kurt quickly hid the discomfort he felt at that. "All I'd be able to think about is how _smoking_ you'd look in an Ice-Titan jersey." The thought of that kind of turned Kurt on. Honestly, Dave would have loved for Kurt to be there, cheering him on, but he hadn't done any speed or precision skating since January and he was terrified about how he'd perform. Dave's skating ability was legendary at McKinley and Dave wanted Kurt to see him at nothing but his best. Dave had been skating unassisted since he was three years old and had never been off the ice for more than a week at a time, and even _that_ was a long break. As Coach Fjalar always said, there is no "season" for hockey, if you aren't playing year-round you aren't playing at all; you're just 'messing around.' Kurt would have to wait until Dave appraised his own abilities before he got to see him in action.

xoxoxo

Dave was sitting-in on glee with Kurt, not because he was interested in watching try-outs…or, god forbid, _trying out_. He was just still in summer mode and felt like the eight-hour school day was too long to be away from Kurt. _Why the hell did we have to place in all different classes?_ Kurt was in all the high-level language and language arts classes, Dave was in high-level math and science classes, and for social studies Dave was taking modern world history while Kurt took geography.

After the four newbies were finished showing off, Mr. Schu and the rest of New Directions welcomed them, warmly. "That was great, guys! We're so glad to have you with us. Nationals is in Los Angeles this year and, despite the upset at regionals last year, I'm positive that you guys have all the talent, charisma and gumption to take us all the way this year! Now, since sectionals are a few months away, we have a bit of time to just goof around, have a bit of fun and get to know each other."

Mr Schu gestured to Rachel to introduce herself.

"I'm Rachel Berry, co-captain of New Directions and future Broadway wonder."

"I'm Finn Hudson, also co-captain and I'm quarterback of the Titans."

"I'm Quinn Fabray, I'm head Cheerio."

"I'm Santana Lopez, I'm single, and you're kind of hot."

A freshman male that had just finished his audition moments ago blushed and tried hiding behind Brad the piano man.

"I'm Todd Marix, I play bass guitar, seven-string guitar, piano, and nose flute."

"Dude, don't forget skin flute." It took Mr. Schu a moment to catch what Puck had said, but by the time he had, the rest of glee was giggling or out-right laughing.

"I'm Brittany Pierce, but I think I'm the reincarnation of Tinkerbell. She's dead, right?"

"I'm Mike Chang, along with Brittany I help take care of all the choreography."

"I'm Artie Abrams, no relation to the tank company."

"I'm Puck, resident badass motherfucker."

"Hey, Sam Evans. If Puck's resident mofo, then I guess that makes me resident hotty."

"Lauren Zizes, I hate glee, I hate singing, I hate you. I'm the resident ball of sunshine."

"Hey, ya'll. I'm Mercedes Jones, diva extraordinaire."

"I'm Tina Cohen-Chang…That's it for me, I guess."

"I'm Kurt Hummel, I'm a mezzo-soprano and I'm the only male present with any fashion sense."

"Uhhh…yeah. I'm Dave…Karofsky. I'm not a member. More like a groupie, I guess. Whatever."

The new additions to glee had already introduced themselves before their solos, so Mr. Schu took over, again. "Okay, now, down to business. After certain _incidents_ last year, the school board has invited an outside organization to help curtail bullying in the school." Kurt poked Dave in the ribs as if to say "you're fault." Dave poked Kurt back and he in turn retaliated by tickling Dave's side.

Suppressing a laugh, Dave swatted Kurt's mischievous fingers away. Santana exchanged a confused look with Quinn and Puck. "What bullying? Azimio graduated…or got hit by a car or something. If Dave doesn't behave himself he can't get into Kurt's skirt." Both Kurt and Dave shot Santana a nasty look at that. "Finn and Puck are both gleeks. What bullies are left?"

Will considered this for a moment; Santana had raised a good point. "Well, that's just it. You administer flu and pox vaccines _before_ you get sick. If we can create a positive, safe environment before the hate and anger becomes infectious again, then maybe the goodwill and" for lack of a better word, Will stole Figgin's earlier description, "_tolerance _can become infectious. Now, Principal Figgins wants us to select a song or two to open this entire seminar with. Does anyone have any suggestions."

Dave tentatively raised his hand. _This_ was something he wouldn't mind being a part of. "I have a suggestion. It's kind of old-school and a bit stupid…especially coming from me. But it's a good song…poignant, I guess. It's by this group my dad likes, from like, way back when. They did 'Puff the Magic Dragon.'"

Mr. Schu furrowed his brow. "Are you talking about 'Peter, Paul and Mary?'" Before Dave could nod, realization dawned on Mr. Schu as it occurred to him what song Dave was talking about. _It_ is _a poignant song_, he thought.

xoxoxo

**My school did the whole Anti-Defamtation League workshop day. The song glee is going to do I had to do solo a capella in front of my entire school. We had absolutely no arts department of any kind at my school, so I took more flack than a New Directions' gleek after that. This song still makes me cry when I hear it (done right. Some variations just suck). **


	33. ADL

Sorry about the awkwardness of the song, but most of the lines I had very definite visions of who was meant to sing it and some of them were almost pre-determined by fate (you'll see).

xoxoxo

Kurt was sitting, waiting on the front steps of McKinley; wringing his hands as he waited nervously for Dave. Today was the day of the assembly. Today would, hopefully, mark the beginning of the end of bullying at McKinley; it should be a day of celebration. Instead, it might see the return of "The Fury." After ten minutes of paranoid waiting, Kurt saw Dave's "nautical blue metallic" Tundra drive by and pull into an available spot. Dave hopped out of the cab, his book bag slung over a single shoulder. When Dave spotted Kurt waiting for him, his step became a bit bouncier. Until he got close enough to see Kurt's face. "What's wrong?"

Kurt stood up and met Dave's eyes. "Just, please…keep your cool." Kurt ran his fingers through Dave's hair. It was getting longer and Kurt loved how he could tangle his fingers in the brunette curly-cue curls. "You've come _so_ far. You are so much more of a man than the other idiots at this school."

Dave took Kurt's wrist gently and lowered his hand. "What happened?"

Kurt glanced over his shoulder, towards the opening of the school. "Someone trashed your locker. They wrote something on it, but I have no clue what it means." Dave dropped Kurt's hand and stormed past him into the building. Kurt lowered his head, shaking it sadly. People had become so accepting of them…or so he thought. What went wrong?

Kurt jogged to catch up with Dave, but found Dave already in front of his locker, his expression blank, his fingers hovering over the "C" someone had spray-painted on his locker. "Dave?"

Dave looked up at Kurt, his expression still deadpan. "It was the hockey team."

Kurt felt his heart sink. _Those bastards are supposed to be his friends._ "Dave…I'm so sorry. I know they were your friends... _our_ friends. But maybe, with Marshall and Gunnar graduated, and you back on the team and everything, maybe they're just intimidated by you being a homosexual. I mean…even _I_ know homosexuals and sports are usually a… _volatile_ combination. I wish it weren't so, but the world _is_ changing. Slowly, but definitely."

Dave cracked a smile. "You are so cute when you're making a speech. But this" he gestured to the graffiti on his locker, "has _nothing_ to do with me being gay." Dave worked the combination on his lock, popping it off once it clicked. Dave reached into his locker, knowing what to expect and knowing it hadn't been there Friday afternoon when he left school. He pulled out what Kurt recognized as an Ice-Titan hockey jersey. Dave held it up by the shoulders so Kurt could see the front. "It's about this." Kurt looked at Dave blankly. He had no idea what Dave meant. "It's about the 'C'." Kurt noticed that there _was_ a giant 'C' over the left breast. "Every year the Ice-Titans have a secret ballot on who's going to be captain," Kurt's eyes widened; he hadn't even been expecting Dave to get back on the team so soon. "once Fjalar calculates the votes, he has the rest of the team get together in secret to find a way to surprise the new captain. Last year I left school to find my car decorated with cutouts of every NHL captain and a picture of my ugly mug on the hood. The year before that they burned the 'C' into the grass in my backyard while my family and I were out."

Kurt wrapped his arms around Dave's waist. "Congratulations, you big Neanderthal."

Dave kissed the top of Kurt's head. "So…you gonna come cheer me on at my games? The Ice-Titans don't get the use of Cheerios, but I hear you have a pretty awesome high-kick."

Kurt kissed Dave's chest. "You betcha."

xoxoxo

Dave was feeling psyched after what had happened earlier; he wasn't even _that_ nervous to be performing in front of the school…at least not as nervous as he had expected to be. _Nope…not nervous at all. Just keep telling yourself that, Dave._ New Directions was on the stage in the auditorium, the curtains still closed. Classes had been led down to the seats at the end of homeroom; the assembly would begin shortly after. Principal Figgins was explaining the purpose of the day; New Directions was too busy preparing to listen. They had no costumes for their performance today. Mr. Schu had told them that the purpose of today was to accentuate the right to individuality, so he had instructed them to dress as they normally would.

For Dave, that meant his letterman and jeans. He was fidgeting with the zipper at the moment, trying to decide whether or not to wear it open or closed. Kurt came over and took both of Dave's hands in his. "Just breathe, Dave. Just breathe." Dave placed his hands on the sides of Kurt's head and pulled him in for a deep kiss. The passionate ferocity of the kiss reminded Kurt of that first kiss, so long ago in the locker room. And Dave had the same wild confused look in his eyes. "It's okay, handsome. You won't be alone out there."

"Okay, guys. Get into places." Mr. Schu came over and began herding the gleeks into different directions. The lights fell dim and the curtains slid open. Artie rolled forward into the spotlight as the music started up.

_I'm a little boy with glasses_

_The one they call a geek_

Tina stepped forward next, taking her place to the left of Artie

_A little girl who never smiles_

'_Cause I've got braces on my teeth_

Dave felt a mild twinge of panic as Kurt left his side to take his place on Artie's other side.

_And I know how it feels_

_To cry myself to sleep_

It was Lauren's turn to take her spot in the light

_I'm that kid on every playground_

_Who's always chosen last_

Quinn

_A single teenage mother _

_Trying to overcome my past_

Rachel stepped forward and took Quinn's hand; giving it a warm squeeze, the girls smiled at each other

_You don't have to be my friend_

_But is that too much to ask?_

Mercedes

_Don't laugh at me_

_Don't call me names_

Finn

_Don't get your pleasure from my pain_

_In God's eyes we're all the same_

Brittany

_Someday we'll all have perfect wings_

_Don't laugh at me_

Puck, who had been playing the guitar in the background, stepped forward, still strumming in time to the music.

_I'm the beggar on the corner_

_You've passed me on the street_

Sam came forward next

_And I wouldn't be out here beggin'_

_If I had enough to eat_

Dave was so focused on the music he almost forgot to step into the light, but his legs thankfully knew exactly what was supposed to happen

Taking a deep breath, he sang out his own lines

_And don't think I don't notice_

_That our eyes never meet_

Mike

_Don't laugh at me_

_Don't call me names_

Santana

_Don't get your pleasure from my pain_

_In God's eyes we're all the same_

Todd

_Someday we'll all have perfect wings_

_Don't laugh at me_

Mercedes: _I'm fat_

Kurt: _I'm thin_

Rachel: _I'm short_

Finn: _I'm tall_

Dave, signing as he sang: _I'm deaf_

Brittany: _I'm blind_

Santana: _Hey aren't we all?_

The entire glee club came together for the last part and Dave was pretty sure he could hear a voice or two in the audience join them.

_Don't laugh at me_

_Don't call me names_

_Don't get your pleasure from my pain_

_In God's eyes we're all the same_

_Someday we'll all have perfect wings_

_Don't laugh at me_

There was the usual luke-warm smattering of applause from the audience. Once that died down the glee club immediately fell into places for their next song.

_I'm Gonna Make A Change,_

_For Once In My Life_

_It's Gonna Feel Real Good,_

_Gonna Make A Difference_

_Gonna Make It Right…_

Dave felt his nerves calm after the first verse. It was a lot easier to do this when everyone was singing together. When this song came to an end, the auditorium was pretty pumped up. Dave smiled and high-fived Finn who happened to be passing by at the time as they went to their chairs in the middle of the stage.

A representative from the Anti-Defamation League came up and began talking about the next portion of the assembly. It was an opportunity for any student or faculty member to come forward and talk about their experiences with bullying, feeling singled out, left out, or just anything they wanted to get off their chest. Everyone knew that this would be a difficult portion of the assembly because teenagers usually aren't that open to sharing, especially about their feelings, especially in front of large groups, so they had decided before hand that glee members would break the ice.

Dave had wanted to go first, he had apologized to a lot of people already, but he was positive that there were dozens he hadn't. Instead, Finn beat him to the punch.

"Hey." Finn was hunched over the microphone and let out an awkward wave to the school. "I'm Finn Hudson. I used to instigate a lot of the bullying that went on in this school. I would use my influence as quarterback to pressure other people into doing bad things as well. I feel really bad about it now too, because, a lot of the people I used to bully, they're my friends now…and even my family. So, I just want everyone to know how sorry I am."

_Damn…he stole my speech_ Dave thought.

Kurt got up next and, unlike Finn, adjusted the microphone to his own height before talking. "Hi, I'm Kurt Hummel. I doubt there is anyone in this school who isn't aware of the fact that I'm gay. I used to get teased for it…by just about everyone. Eventually, the bullying got so bad I had to change schools. It made me feel like I was some sort of disgusting abomination." Kurt hugged his arms around himself and paused for a moment, unsure if he would be able to continue. Dave got up and went to Kurt, wrapping his own arms around his boyfriend for added comfort. "I used to cry a lot, when no one else could see me. There will be people out there who try to make you feel just as miserable. Don't let them. Hiding or running never solves anything."

Kurt tried turning around to return to his seat, his face hot and burning from embarrassment, but Dave kept his arms wrapped around him, holding him in place. Leaning over Kurt, Dave spoke into the mike next. "I'm Dave Karofsky. I'm the reason Kurt had to change schools. I used to do horrible things to him. I would call him foul names, slam him into lockers, threaten to beat him up, I even convinced the football team to nail his lawn furniture to the roof of his house." Dave could feel Kurt tense. _Damn, he didn't know that was me, did he?_ "It wasn't because I hated him or anything. It was because I hated myself, for not being able to be more like him. Stronger. Braver. Confident. Kurt had to teach me to be those things. And I'm still learning. No one has a right to ever make you feel bad about yourself. And you don't have the right to _ever_ make anyone else feel bad about themselves. _Ever._ So just, don't, ok? One of the old First Ladies, Eleanor Roosevelt said that 'No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.' I think that's complete bull. It's really easy to make someone feel inferior and there are very few people who would consent. So no matter how crap you feel about yourself, there are better ways of dealing with it." Dave and Kurt walked hand in hand back to their seats.

Santana came up to the mike next. "I'm bisexual. You got a problem with that, you take that shit up with me, to my _face_, understand? Got it? Good." With a swish of her hips, Santana turned around and went back to her seat.

After Quinn got up and talked about how hard the year before last had been for her, kids from the auditorium began getting up to talk. Pretty soon there was an actual line. A couple of teachers even got up to talk. Dave was surprised at the variety of "confessions" he was hearing. He had always thought of himself as being alone; no one could understand the pain he had been feeling this time last year. But here he was, listening to kids talk about growing up in foster care, kids talking about being bullied for the stupidest things (who the hell still bullies people for wearing glasses?), some kids got up and spoke on behalf of friends for more sensitive issues (apparently one kid was getting hit at home on a regular basis), one girl even came up and talked about how her parents had forced her to get an abortion as a freshman and how she had always been too ashamed to talk about it even to her friends (Quinn practically ran after the girl to give her a hug of support). By the time this portion of the day's "events" wound down to a close, Dave could honestly say he could see few dry eyes in the auditorium.

xoxoxo

At the end of the day, Dave sat in the choir room with Kurt, cradling him in his arms. It had been such an emotionally high-impact day; they were both exhausted. Hearing Kurt talk so frankly about how the bullying had made him feel made Dave feel absolutely horrible inside. Hours later, he couldn't stop thinking about it. _Maybe that's why Kurt doesn't love me. How the hell _could_ he after everything I did to him? I'm surprised he can even tolerate me._ Dave softly kissed both of Kurt's eyes before clutching him closer to his chest, terrified of letting Kurt slip out of his grasp. He wanted desperately to tell Kurt how much he loved him, but knew that made Kurt feel uncomfortable. They had had a nice long discussion about the "L" word after the trial verdict. Instead, Dave settled with whispering in Kurt's ear "I will never hurt you again, and I will do everything in my power to make you forget that 'evil Dave' ever existed."

Kurt's eyes opened slowly and took a moment to focus in on Dave's face. Kurt smiled up at Dave and nuzzled his head against his chest, "You're mostly almost there." Kurt stroked Dave's cheek with his hand before shutting his eyes again and just relaxing in Dave's warmth.

xoxoxo

First song was "Don't Laugh at Me" by Peter, Paul and Mary

Second song was "Man in the Mirror" by Michael Jackson

One of the 'confessions' was a real one we heard at my school when the ADL came (the one where the girl's parents forced her to get an abortion). That's how fired up these things get.

Next chapter will be a flashback to the trial because my dumbass completely forgot about doing the verdict.


	34. The Verdicts

**Sorry for how long this took. My father, who was going to help me out with the court details, is currently in the hospital. Do me a favor, will you? If you smoke, please quit. No matter how much pleasure it gives you, the inevitable pain and misery it causes you and your friends and family can never equal the pleasure. **

**xoxoxo**

"This wait is killing me." The jury was in the third hour of deliberation and all they had to do was wait. No listening to music, no movie to pass the time. Their only options were to sit and talk and wait or to walk around the small court and wait. Kurt was pretty certain he was going insane: slowly, but surely. "I mean, correct me if I'm wrong, Paul, but the fact that they're taking this long means that they're actually _arguing_ over something? The jurors, I mean."

Paul nodded. "Yes, but that doesn't necessarily mean something bad. There are several counts that they have to go over individually for each of the individual defendants."

Carol leaned over the partition between the plaintiff's bench and the court spectators, getting close to Paul and Kurt. In a sinister whisper that only the plaintiff party could hear, Carol stated, point blank, "If any of them gets less than twenty I'll kill them, myself."

Paul smiled. "I'm sure. But, unfortunately for you, there's a line."

Kurt leaned in close against Dave. Dave's body heat never ceased to comfort Kurt. Dave wrapped his arms around Kurt. "Boredom getting to you, handsome?" Kurt nodded against Dave's chest, wondering if anyone would care if he took a nap like that or not. "You want to come over my house later and watch _Twelve Angry Men_?"

Kurt recognized the name of the movie. In class, they had read the play revolving around a jury's deliberation over whether or not a young man was guilty of murder. Kurt turned around and whacked Dave on the arm. "You know, your sense of humor worries me sometimes."

Dave wrapped his arms around Kurt again, pinioning the thinner boy's arms to his sides so he couldn't hit him again. "You have to be able to laugh. If I didn't laugh, I'd just cry."

Burt leaned across the partition, patting David on the arm. "Whatever happens after today, boys, your lives will continue. _They,_ on the other hand, are screwed. They're guilty of a federal hate crime. They'll be societal pariahs for the rest of their lives."

Kurt snorted while Dave voiced thoughts currently going through Kurt's head, "Assuming that they're found guilty."

Paul shook his head without looking at any of them. "Even _I_ couldn't get them off."

The wait continued for another agonizing hour. Kurt thought he might have fallen asleep at one point, but couldn't be entirely sure. He and Dave had been up late the night before, talking on the phone until they got bored of that and both snuck out of their homes. They met up at the school: the football field to be exact and just hung out. They talked about anything but the trial. They talked about their hopes (if hockey didn't work out, Dave was seriously thinking of becoming a physical therapist), their dreams (Kurt obviously wanted to be on Broadway, but he also wanted to work with children), their fears (Dave was afraid of the congenital hearing loss that ran in his mother's family) and their regrets (Kurt regretted not standing up to Dave sooner, before he had gotten so out of control).

After that, Dave felt prompted to talk about what had started the bullying. He told Kurt about how he had been so terrified about his sexuality, especially once Kurt became so out about his own sexuality. He was afraid that somehow, with Kurt being around, people would just…_know_ that Dave was gay…like, gaydar by proxy. Even as he was saying it, he realized just how stupid he sounded and several little tears rolled silently down Dave's cheek. Kurt brushed his palm over Dave's face, drying the trails of moisture. Standing and reaching out his hand to Dave, he led him off of the bleachers and out onto the football field. Kurt faced Dave, took one of his hands and placed the other on his hip. They slow danced like that; 1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4. There was no music, no talking, neither sang; they were just two boys, melded forever in that moment into a single, content being.

The jury filed out of their quarters, silent and somber. When they were all seated, the judge entered from his own chambers. Kurt could feel his father's strong hand on his shoulder. He placed his own hand over it and squeezed it reassuringly, standing as the clerk commanded it. Turning around to survey the courtroom, Kurt could quickly spot at least half of the glee club, several football and hockey players, Dave's brothers, sister-in-law, several of his cousins, and innumerable people Kurt couldn't identify. Sitting, again at the clerk's order, Kurt wondered momentarily who was here to support Tony and his friends.

"Has the jury reached its verdict?"

An elderly black man, dressed in a light grayish-blue suit stood. "We have."

"Eric Mazzari, on two counts of attempted murder, we find – not guilty." Kurt had to remind himself to stay calm. Mazzari had a plea bargain; of course he'd get off easy. "On the two counts of conspiracy to commit murder, we find – not guilty. On the count of kidnapping in the first degree, we find – guilty. On the count of assault and battery, we find – not guilty." Kurt didn't much care what happened to Eric. It was Tony and Hayden he wanted to see hang. Tony obviously had been the one to carve him and Dave up, but Hayden had been the one with the bat: the one that had put Dave in the wheelchair for so long. Hayden had also been the one keeping tabs on Kurt throughout his day at Dalton so that the others would know exactly where and when to grab him. The fact that Hayden had watched Kurt, unnoticed, for over five hours still made Kurt feel sick inside.

"Cristopher Ferguson, on two counts of attempted murder, we find – not guilty." Kurt's breath caught in his chest. "On the two counts of conspiracy to commit murder, we find – guilty. On the count of kidnapping in the first degree, we find – guilty. On the count of assault and battery, we find – guilty." _Wait, what? Why did he not get attempted murder?_

"Hayden Miller, on two counts of attempted murder, we find – not guilty." Kurt looked over to Paul; he desperately wanted to ask why they weren't being found guilty of attempted murder. Paul looked straight ahead though, his expression blank. "On the two counts of conspiracy to commit murder, we find – guilty. On the count of kidnapping in the first degree, we find – guilty. On the count of assault and battery, we find – guilty."

"Antony Amata, on two counts of attempted murder, we find – guilty." _Oh, thank god_ "On the two counts of conspiracy to commit murder, we find – guilty. On the count of kidnapping in the first degree, we find – guilty. On the count of assault and battery, we find – guilty."

Kurt stopped listening after that. He was fairly certain that the judge was saying something: thanking the jury, he thought. He didn't care though; it was over. It was all over and only Tony had gotten found guilty of attempted murder. Paul pulled both Kurt and David into his arms. Kurt could hear Dave whisper hoarsely to his father, "But they _all_ wanted us dead. That was their plan."

Paul looked at the two boys. "Attempted murder usually only goes to the one that actually committed the physical acts. It's okay though; conspiracy to commit murder is just as bad. It has the same penalty. Amata, Miller and Ferguson will be going away for a long time. I _promise_ you."

As they were leaving the courtroom, Kurt got hugs from just about everyone he passed. Each in turn offered some words of support or congratulations. "It's over, you must be so relieved!" "Thank god, you can finally get back to your normal lives." "Score one for the justice system." _Why is everyone treating this like a victory?_ To Kurt, knowing that Hayden got off for attempted murder, it felt like a resounding defeat.

A middle-aged woman with short, blonde-grey hair was crying profusely as an equally aged man tried to pull her into an embrace. She pulled away from him and roughly dragged her a forearm across her face, clearing the tears away. Her eyes met Kurt's and, though there was too much ambient noise for Kurt to hear what she said, he could read the familiar epithet on her lips, "faggot."

_Total defeat_, Kurt thought.

**xoxoxo**

**For the few of you who have commented on how they're sad that it's senior year and things will be ending soon...since when is senior year an "ending"? I always thought of it as a beginning. Don't worry, we'll be following these two through college. After all, our man Hummel has yet to say that dreaded "L" word. After that fiasco with me forgetting to do the verdicts until after the school year started (they were supposed to be before), I decided to do a rough outline of what's left. We're now at the 2/3 point (ish) in our journey with these two. **


	35. Checks and Balances

November 10th

_Meet me in the locker room before lunch – D.K._

Kurt tucked the note into his pocket and dumped his books from the first two periods into his locker. Pulling out his chemistry books, Kurt headed off to his third period class wondering what Dave was up to.

When fifth period drew to a close, Kurt made a beeline for the locker room, not at all patient when it came to surprises. Dave sat on the wooden bench, waiting for him, one of his trademarked dopey smiles on his face. His smile broadened when Kurt came into the locker room. "Hey."

Kurt sat on the bench next to Dave and returned his "hey," nonchalantly.

"Do you know what today is?" Dave drew both his own lips between his teeth, chewing on them.

Kurt shrugged, "Your half-birthday?"

That seemed to take Dave by surprise. He furrowed his brows, causing the brim of his hat to dip down slightly and stuck out his tongue just a smidge as he did the math in his head. "Actually, good guess. That'll be Friday. But, no. That's not what's special about today. One year ago, today, you and I had our first kiss."

Kurt crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head to the side. "That _isn't_ exactly a romantic moment that needs to be recorded in the history books."

Dave, still smiling stupidly, leaned in close to Kurt. "Yeah, but you've told me before you like it when I'm rough."

Kurt placed a hand on Dave's chest and held him at arm's length. "There is a difference between _rough_, and _forced_. Me liking it when you bite my lip or pinch my butt is a far cry from enjoying it when someone you're scared shitless of, all of a sudden, out of nowhere, grabs your head and plasters their lips to yours."

Dave frowned, looking down and to the side. "I'm sorry."

Kurt sighed. This was an entirely different David. _How could a year have changed a person, so much?_ "I know you are." Kurt wrapped his fingers around the neckline of Dave's letterman and pulled him in closer, meeting Dave's lips with his own.

They stayed like that for a bit before Dave remembered why he had asked Kurt to come. "So, anyway. This weekend is a friendly game against the Condors. I know you've never seen me play hockey, so I thought you might like to come and watch."

Kurt honestly couldn't think of anything he'd like to do _less_ than watch a hockey game, but Dave looked so sad and hopeful that Kurt couldn't say 'no'.

"Who else is going?" If Kurt was going to be forced to sit through a sporting event, he refused to be by himself.

"Well, the game is just a fun tradition; it isn't actually for points or anything, so, it won't be packed like a normal game. But my mom will definitely be there. And probably my dad and Joe. Maybe Jenny and Miri."

Kurt thought about it for a minute. Joe and Paul probably wouldn't mind explaining what was going on to him. "Okay."

xoxoxo

Kurt sat between Paul and Jenny. Joe had work and couldn't attend. Miriam opted to go hang out with her friends instead. Joan had yelled at her for a while about that ("This is your brother's first game in almost a year and you're not going to go out and support him?" "But _mom_, it isn't even a _real_ game."). The politically correct liberal in Kurt hated to admit it, but listening to a deaf woman yell was probably one of the funniest things he had ever heard...she sounded drunk the way her words slurred. Gradually, the fight transformed into sign language so Kurt couldn't follow along, but it seemed to be just as heated. Eventually, Joan gave up and allowed Miri to go off with her friends. Jennifer, surprisingly, was in a fairly good mood; the first time Kurt had _ever_ really seen that.

Kurt rubbed his gloved hands together trying to keep them warm while they waited for the teams to take to the ice. Leaning over, he decided to take advantage of "the calm before the storm" to try and figure out what actually happened in hockey; Mighty Ducks wasn't exactly a guidebook, after all. "So…how do you play?"

Paul pointed at the circle in the middle of the rink. "That's where the faceoff happens. Each team wants to get the puck – a little round disk – from that circle into the opposing team's net." Kurt grimaced…worst explanation _ever_.

Kurt looked away from Paul and back to the rink. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Jenny shaking. Turning to face her, he could see she wasn't shivering, but rather, trying to stifle a laugh. "Hilarious, Jen. Would _you_ like to do better?"

"Okay, I will. Each teams has five players on the ice, plus their goalie; two for defense, two for offense, and a center. Centers do whatever is needed. That's what Dave is."

"I thought Dave was captain?"

"Mmmm…captain is just a title. It's not like football where the quarterback is the backbone of the team as well as an actual position. Anyone can be captain…except the goal tender. The captain is the only player allowed to talk to the refs. That's really the only _official_ job of the captain; but each team also gives them other perks. With the Ice-Titans, Dave is in charge of running practice if the coach can't make it and making sure each player is pulling their weight and getting whatever support they need."

Kurt nodded, Dave had been a _lot_ busier since hockey practice started up. That, plus Dave being back at work, Kurt was grateful for their lunches together and Dave's occasional sit-in at glee.

"There are three twenty-minute periods in a hockey game. In reality, each period lasts…_about _thirty five - forty minutes. Between each period, the players get short breaks. Scoring isn't like basketball or football. A goal, is a goal, is a goal, is a point. No three-pointers or whatever. Other than that, there's really only the penalties to worry about; those are like fouls. You can get booted for a few minutes or the whole game. If you're penalized for a couple minutes, you go to the box. You don't get replaced and the other team is on what's called a "power play." All that means is that they have more players on the ice."

"What kind of penalties are there?"

"Ummm…penalties get kind of confusing. You and Dave can watch a Tampa Bay Lightning game sometime. You'll know every penalty there is before the first period is over."

Kurt chuckled. Seeing Jennifer like this was…strange. "How much longer do we have until they start?"

"Face-off is in five."

Kurt looked around; he was bored and the game hadn't even started yet. "What is traditional hockey food?"

Jen smiled. "Anything warm. Come-on, we can go get nachos or something."

Kurt followed after Jennifer; a bit leery about trying concession stand nachos. When they got to concessions, Jenny got herself nachos and a coke. Kurt looked the list of food options over before settling on a cinnamon pretzel. When Kurt turned back around to face Jennifer, she had one of the nacho chips raised up over her head and was trying to angle the dripping cheese into her gaping mouth. Kurt smiled. "Do you mind if I ask you something personal, Jen?"

Shoving the remaining chip into her mouth she shrugged while nodding. "Thure."

Kurt tried his best to not sneer at her horrible manners. She was as bad as Dave sometimes, but at least Kurt had the right to try and train David. "You seem to be doing a lot better this semester. I see you laughing and joking in the halls with your friends, you're civil to me and Dave's friends; for a while I thought you were just unhappy with your home life, but today seems to be disproving that theory. "

Jennifer busied herself using a nacho chip to redistribute the cheese evenly over the rest of the chips. "Middle school just…really _sucked, _you know?"

Kurt couldn't deny sympathizing with her; middle school _had_ been murder. "And high school is so much better?"

Jennifer nervously shoved some loose strands of hair behind her ear. "People treated me like shit at school. I had no real friends. And then I go home and Dave's as big of a freakin' bully as everyone at school."

Kurt nodded. "Yeah, but even after Dave wasn't a bully anymore?"

Jen snorted. "Yeah, but _that_ didn't stop the bullying at school. If anything, having a flaming fairy for a brother made things worse…_sorry,_ 'homosexual'. I was a complete and utter outcast. And no one even really gave a shit. It was all about Dave, you know? I know things sucked for Dave and he really needed mom and dad's support…but _I_ needed them, too, you know?"

"I'm sorry, Jen. I can't imagine how hard that must have been for you. But high school's really that much better than middle school? I always thought high school was infinitely worse than middle school."

"Everyone is so awesome at McKinley. It's like, once my class moved up to ninth grade, everyone stopped caring that Dave was gay. And no one really messes with me anymore…I think they're afraid of Dave."

Kurt smiled, not at the fear Dave inspired, but at the growth McKinley had gone through. The atmosphere really had changed a lot. Even before the tolerance training things had had the potential to be great. Apparently people weren't the only thing that could drastically change in a year. "Well, I'm just glad things have gone so much better for you this year." Kurt wrapped his arms around Jennifer. Knowing how 'huggy' Joan and Dave were he wasn't the least bit surprised when she returned his hug with just as much enthusiasm. "And just look at it this way, after this year, Dave will be off to college and you won't have to compete with _him_ for your parents attention anymore."

Jennifer pulled out of Kurt's hug and raised one of her eyebrows. "Uh-huh. That's what they said about Joe and _that_ creeper still lives in the attic." They both laughed together before heading back into the rink.

xoxoxo

Back and forth, side to side. Kurt was surprised his neck wasn't hurting from all the whipping back and forth he had to do to keep track of that tiny little puck. They were less than two minutes into the game and, while Kurt couldn't accuse the game of being slow, he had a feeling if he were a cat the game would have been _far_ more interesting. One of the Condors headed off into the "corner" of the rink, trying to get to the puck before any of the Ice-Titans. David sped after him at full speed and Kurt winced when they collided against the glass. The Condor got his stick behind the puck and was about to pass it off to a teammate when Dave thrust his hip against him forcing him into the glass again and the Condor lost his balance and fell. Dave swiped at the puck and thwacked it off to one of the other Ice-Titans. A Condor tried to intercept the puck, but Dave skated past him and rammed his shoulder into him as he passed. "Damn it, Dave." Kurt cursed under his breath. "You're back in the rink for five minutes and you're already going to get in trouble."

Jennifer shot him a confused look. "For _what_?"

"He's being a brute, again. He keeps pushing and shoving the other players. Someone could get hurt." Kurt wouldn't have minded Jennifer laughing at him, or Paul. But the fact that complete strangers around him were laughing at him made him feel horribly self-conscious.

"Kurt, that's how you _play_. It's called checking and it's a perfectly legal move. It's like tackling in football. It's why there are so many jokes out there about hockey players having no teeth. It's a _brutal_ sport."

Kurt did a quick mental inventory, he was pretty certain Dave still had all his teeth, but subconsciously ran his tongue over his own perfect teeth. He couldn't imagine sacrificing your health and well being for something so…_primitive_. As the game moved along, more and more people got slammed against the wall or knocked over, or fell. At one point, three Condors had Dave against the glass and were struggling with him over the puck. Kurt put his hand over his mouth, waiting to hear the inevitable 'crack' from one of Dave's ribs. But as the Condors skated away and Dave regained his balance and followed after them he appeared to be fine. Kurt slowly lowered his hand and placed it back into his lap. Jennifer wasn't watching the game just then, she was staring wide-eyed up at Kurt, a wide smile on her face. "What?"

Jennifer turned away and shook her head. "Nothing, it's just _so_ cute how worried you are about him. You really do love him don't you?"

Kurt stopped looking at Jen, he turned back to the game trying to spot Dave, but he was on the bench throwing back a Gatorade. "I…_like _your brother a lot. But that's only half the reason. I was with your brother in the hospital, remember? I don't ever want to see him like that again."

"Oh, come _on_ Kurt. Dave _lives_ for this. The swish of blades across the ice, the thump of the puck against the stick, the crash of bodies against the glass; this is Dave's high. A goal, to Dave, is like what the E6 at the end of "The Phantom of the Opera" would be to you. Instant orgasm."

_Oh…dear…god…_ _She is a micro-version of Dave!_ Dave's vulgar way of talking was slowly growing on Kurt; it was almost a turn-on…sometimes. But coming from the petite, delicate, little Jennifer it was so unexpected it was funny. Knowing her of course, Kurt expected it, but her _way_ of talking didn't match up with her _appearance._ Kurt went back to watching the game. He had to remind himself several times that Dave would be okay. _Dave and all of his siblings have been playing hockey since they could walk, and they are obviously all alright…unless of course there's a sixth sibling no one ever mentioned…possibly because they died in some horrible hockey accident._ _Wait a minute…_ "I'm sorry, E6? You know music?"

It took Jennifer a minute to pull herself out of the game enough to figure out what Kurt was talking about. "Hmm? Oh, yeah. I play piano… Oh, do _not_ get any ideas, glee-boy. I do _not_ sing."

Kurt nudged her. "That's what Dave-y tried to say."

"No…I _can_not sing. Trust me." Kurt shrugged, it was worth a shot.

xoxoxo

After the game concluded (5-2 Ice-Titans), Kurt and the Karofskys waited for Dave out in the front lobby. Lots of people were meandering around; most of them were probably there for a particular player since this wasn't a "real" game. It had certainly _looked_ real to Kurt. Paul and Joan met up with what must have been a familiar face while Jen went off to get another drink.

When Dave came out of the locker room, still in his uniform with his bag slung over his shoulders, Kurt expected Dave to be reserved in front of the opposing hockey players. Instead Dave dropped his bag and wrapped his arms around Kurt pulling him up into a giant bear-hug. "So how was your first ever hockey game?"

Kurt smiled and shrugged. "Okay, I guess. Not exactly a night at the theatre, but I'll live." Dave pressed his lips to Kurt and Kurt's face was almost instantly soaked. When the kiss ended, Kurt pulled away and made a face. "You are a disgusting sweaty bastard." Sniffing the air, Kurt frowned. "Eww, and you stink, too."

Dave turned his hat around so the brim pointed backwards and pulled Kurt close again and rubbed his face all over Kurt's. Kurt started giggling while he tried to push Dave away. It was really hard to be disgusted when Dave was so affectionate…kind of like that slimy dog he let sleep with him or that damn cat that _did_ _not_ stop shedding. They were just so cute that their grossness was forgivable. "It's all eu du man, babe."

Kurt saw, over Dave's arm, one of the Condors pat a fellow Condor on the shoulder and point in his and Dave's direction. Kurt could feel a sudden weight in his chest. As they approached, Kurt waited for the dreaded onslaught of homophobic slurs. He tightened his hold on Dave and glared at them, attempting to telepathically tell them to _back…the…__**fuck**__…off. _They kept coming though and when one tapped Dave on the shoulder, Dave put Kurt down and turned around. "Sup?"

The one that initially pointed Dave out to the second Condor put his right hand up. Dave high-fived it and pulled it down into a handshake before releasing it and shaking the other Condor's hand. "Hey, Captain K. Awesome to see you back in the game man. We heard what happened. I thought you were out for good."

The other Condor nodded. "Yeah, points seriously shouldn't have counted after you went down last year. There needs to be, like, asterisks, or something, in the records saying 'Karofsky didn't play this game.'"

Dave smiled at them. "Yeah, it's gonna take more than a couple of ass-wipes to keep me off the ice. Hey, this is Kurt. He was with me when all the shit went down."

Kurt smiled awkwardly and waved at them, not really sure what a proper greeting would be. They returned his smile, just as awkwardly, and clapped Dave on the back. "Anyways, bro. Congrats on the win. Just know that now _we know_ you're back at full power we won't go easy next time."

Dave waved them off. "Yeah, right. You guys won't get to play-offs. Try again next year, after I've graduated."

Dave faced Kurt. Kurt ran his fingers through his bangs, trying to get Dave's sweat out of his hair. "Well, that went…_better_…than I expected."

Dave nodded. "Yeah, no shit. I guess my reputation on the ice is a panacea."

Kurt furrowed his brow. "You act like a total idiot most of the time, but every now and then you say something that sounds vaguely intelligent."

Dave shrugged and followed behind the rest of his family, holding Kurt's hand as they headed off to the car.

**xoxoxo**

**I can't wait until the next chapter...it's going to be _wicked_...**


	36. New York

May 19th

Dave looked like a total tourist as he made his way down Times Square with Courtney. Every time he saw a light or heard a new noise his head flipped in its direction. He looked like he was bird watching the way he kept his head craned backwards.

"You'll completely love it Day-Day plus, it'll be total bonus points with Kurt, it's his favorite." Dave turned to face Courtney and was glad he did, he was so busy looking at the billboards that he almost walked into a few equally distracted tourists.

"I would much rather see _The 39 Steps._ Mystery and political intrigue is a lot better than…what the hell is this thing about, anyway?"

"_Wicked_ is the Wicked Witch of the West's perspective of what _really_ happened in the _Wizard of Oz_." Dave groaned. He didn't even like the original _Wizard of Oz_, why would he like an alternative universe re-make? Courtney was finally done with her freshman year and Dave had made the trek across Ohio, Pennsylvania and into New York to collect her and her belongings. This was his fourth trip out here; once to drop off Courtney for the start of the year, once to pick her up for winter break, once to drop her off at the end of winter break, plus this trip. As much as Dave loved a nice long car ride, he was kind of happy she would be allowed to have a car next semester.

Granted, he would probably be making _lots_ of trips to see her next year anyway. Courtney loved her school so much she had sold Kurt on it and he had been able to scrape together enough scholarships for his participation in the arts and his good grades that he was able to attend with only minimal student loans. Dave on the other hand had so completely dominated the rink that his first choice, a D-1 college in Pennsylvania with a fairly decent sports medicine department had picked him up for a full ride. The headhunters had only been slightly put off by the fact that he was openly gay, but considering that the Ice-Titans had only garnered one loss that season there wasn't a lot they weren't willing to put up with in order to get their hands on him. Even still, it would be hard being three hours away from Kurt.

xoxoxo

August 17th

Kurt hung his diploma on the wall. It had only arrived in the mail a week ago (they gave out faux diplomas on stage) and Carol had immediately confiscated it in order to get it properly framed. Kurt had to admit, she did an awesome job selecting the frame. It was a shadow box style with the diploma itself flat against the glass and a second frame adjoined to that where his graduation tassel hung in it's own little showcase.

He lined it up with a picture hanging next to on the wall: one of him and Dave together around Hanukkah. Dave had called Kurt up one day in a complete tizzy, unable to tackle the onslaught of family arriving in droves at his house to celebrate the holiday. "Please don't make me deal with these crazy people on my own," Dave had begged. Most of his extended family was still getting used to the idea that Dave was gay and, while Kurt was positive his presence could only make things worse, him being there actually helped to reaffirm that Dave wasn't just "going through a phase," as some of the older Karofskys had put it. Dave's grandparents, Murray and Vivian had thankfully not been like the great aunts and great uncles and were very open-minded about David dating a "charming young faygala." Dave told Kurt "faygala" meant "little bird" but Miriam told him later that while _technically_ that was what it meant, it was actually a term for a gay guy, but she assured him that her grandparents meant it nicely.

After Dave had introduced Kurt to the relatives he actually cared about, Dave went off and spent most the day playing with the little kids; playing tag and hide and go seek with them, giving them piggy-back rides, skating with them on the pond in the back yard; Dave was really cute with the kids…although it could be argued he was nothing more than a giant kid himself. Kurt sat and talked with Vivian and Murray, really enjoying the older couple's company. They were so cute together, even after so many _decades_ of marriage. They reminded Kurt of Paul and Joan. He mentioned that to them at one point and, when prompted for elaboration, explained to them how it astounded him how, despite Joan being deaf, Paul and Joan always seemed to know when the other wanted to say something in a conversation. Vivian laughed at that and waved her hand through the air in a dismissive manner. "When you've been married as long as those two, you figure things out. You notice how they almost always hold hands? When one wants to say something they give the other's hand a little squeeze." Kurt felt rather stupid; of course there had to have been some trick to it. It's not like Joan was psychic or anything. Still, marriage is based on the little things like that and it still left Kurt feeling mildly awestruck.

And here he was, months later, faced with the horrific fact that, after tomorrow, he would only see David sporadically. It was terrifying really; not just Dave going to college so far away, but the fact that he would be so far from home, in a completely strange place, without any familiar faces other than Courtney who he would be rooming with. Thank god for Courtney! Kurt didn't think he'd have the strength to do all this if Courtney wasn't going to be right there beside him. Besides, with him living with Courtney, Dave would have all the more incentive to visit and call. Kurt took the picture of him and Dave off the wall and put it on top of his bags. Everything would be all right. If military couples could do it, so could he and Dave.

Burt came down the stairs and surveyed Kurt's nearly empty room. It was strange that his little boy would be leaving for college in a week. At least he would still have Finn, though. Despite Finn's frequent tirades about "Lima Losers," he had opted not to go to college and instead was learning under Burt at the garage everyday. It was obvious to everyone that Kurt would never take over the garage, but Finn was more than happy to spend the rest of his life working on cars. Burt cleared his throat to get Kurt's attention. "Uh…Dave's here."

Kurt smiled and practically pushed Burt out of the way as he bounded up the stairs. It would be his last chance to see Dave for god-only-knows how long. Dave was leaving some time around six tomorrow morning to start the trip to eastern Pennsylvania. Dave was standing in the living room, waiting for Kurt. Kurt smiled up at him and threw his arms around his neck.

"Come on, let's go hang out back, Kurt." Dave took Kurt's hand and led him through the kitchen and out the back door. In the center of the yard, Dave sat down in the grass and Kurt followed suit. Being with Dave, Kurt had stopped being so obsessive about getting dirty. Even his nightly skin care regime was beginning to taper down. Dave was leaning backwards on his hands, staring up at the stars. Kurt crawled closer to Dave over the lawn and tried to kiss him, but Dave turned his head and Kurt ended up getting a mouth full of ear. "You are going to absolutely love New York."

Kurt sat back, mirroring Dave's posture, "Yeah, I know. I absolutely cannot wait."

Dave smiled, liking seeing Kurt so excited. "It's like the gay mother-ship." Kurt chuckled. "I'm not kidding! Last time I went I counted six same-sex couples walking down the street holding hands, or kissing in public, not giving a crap about what the rest of the world thought. You and I had to fight for that kind of freedom…out there, it's a _right_."

Kurt nodded, "Mmmm…I know. It's going to be tempting to not stay faithful with all those hot, young, single, gay men." Kurt was only joking and expected Dave to not catch that he was, but Dave was still smiling.

"And the theatre…you know Courtney will be dragging you to Broadway, like, every weekend, right?" Dave turned to face Kurt, still smiling.

"Oh, believe me, I know. And if she doesn't, I'll be dragging her."

"Last time I went to New York…back in May. Courtney took me to see _Wicked_."

Kurt grabbed Dave's shoulder in a death grip. "Why didn't you tell me? I can't _believe_ you didn't tell me! Did you love it? Tell me you loved it!"

Dave, still smiling, took Kurt's hand off his shoulder and held it. "Yeah, it was pretty good. I liked the music. Especially this one song."

Dave started getting up off the grass. _Oh my god…is he going to sing to me from_ Wicked? Kurt stood up as well, dusting grass off the back of his pants. _Probably "Dancing Through Life" if I know him._

Dave took both of Kurt's hands in his, while looking him in the eye…still smiling that same gentle smile.

_I've heard it said _

_That people come into our lives for a reason _

_Bringing something we must learn _

_And we are led _

_To those who help us most to grow _

_If we let them _

_And we help them in return _

_Well, I don't know if I believe that's true _

_But I know I'm who I am today _

_Because I knew you... _

_Like a comet pulled from orbit _

_As it passes a sun _

_Like a stream that meets a boulder _

_Halfway through the wood _

_Who can say if I've been changed for the better? _

_But because I knew you _

_I have been changed for good _

Kurt could feel his heart fluttering madly. Dave paused in his singing and Kurt took up Elphaba's lines:

_It well may be _

_That we will never meet again _

_In this lifetime _

_So let me say before we part _

_So much of me _

_Is made of what I learned from you _

_You'll be with me _

_Like a handprint on my heart _

_And now whatever way our stories end _

_I know you have re-written mine _

_By being my friend... _

_Like a ship blown from its mooring _

_By a wind off the sea _

_Like a seed dropped by a skybird _

_In a distant wood _

_Who can say if I've been changed for the better? _

_But because I knew you _

Dave: _Because I knew you_

Kurt and Dave's voices melded together: _I have been changed for good_

Kurt took a breath and was about to start up Elphaba's next lines when Dave stole them. Kurt couldn't get angry though, the lines were more suited to him.

_And just to clear the air _

_I ask forgiveness _

_For the things I've done you blame me for _

Kurt shrugged coyly, knowing that it wasn't just in the song that Dave was asking forgiveness. Taking up his own lines:

_But then, I guess we know _

_There's blame to share _

Once again their voices melded perfectly, as though they were made for each other:

_And none of it seems to matter anymore!_

In perfect counterpoint they continued on with their choruses:

_Like a comet pulled from orbit (Like a ship blown from its mooring)_

_As it passes a sun (By a wind off the sea)_

_Like a stream that meets a boulder (Like a seed dropped by a skybird)_

_Halfway through the wood (In a distant wood)_

Both:

_Who can say if I've been _

_Changed for the better? _

_I do believe I have been _

_Changed for the better _

Dave:

_And because I knew you... _

Kurt:

_Because I knew you... _

Both:

_Because I knew you... _

_I have been changed for good..._

Kurt leaned in to kiss Dave, but once again he turned his head to the side. Kurt, chuckling softly, took Dave's cheek in his hand. "Would you please stop doing that?"

Dave turned to face Kurt, the smile gone from his lips. "I don't want to kiss you, Kurt."

Kurt was taken aback by that. "I don't think I've _ever_ heard you say _anything_ like that before."

Dave lowered his eyes and shrugged. "Kissing you will only make this harder."

Kurt placed his hand under Dave's chin and raised his head back up so he could look him in the eyes. "I _know_ it's going to be difficult, Dave. But we'll get through this. Relationships take work, not just working through differences, which, by the way, we've seemed to master. But also working through the little things like being away from each other for ungodly amounts of time."

Dave shook his head. "You don't get it, Kurt. You're going to New York. There's gonna be gay guys that are into theatre and music and all that shit you love. I'm going to Pennsylvania and will be completely absorbed in hockey. I mean, college hockey is a _lot_ harder than high school hockey."

"So what? We'll get through it."

Dave ran his hand down Kurt's cheek. "No. We won't. It isn't fair of me to make you "get through it." You are probably the realest friend I have ever had. And I've kept you chained to my side for far too long. It was never fair of me to pressure you like that to begin with."

Kurt could feel panic welling up in his chest. "David, what are you doing?"

"I'm letting you go, Kurt." Kurt tried to cut him off, but Dave kept speaking. "I wish you every imaginable happiness in the world. But more than anything, I really hope you find true love. College will give you that chance." Dave kissed the mildly traumatized Kurt on the forehead before turning around and heading to the driveway.

"You're just abandoning me?"

Dave stopped and turned slowly back to Kurt. "After all we've been through, how could you possibly think I'd ever abandon you? You're still my best friend and always will be. I'll see you and Courtney in a few weeks. Hell, I might pop over next weekend to help you guys get unloaded. See you, Kurt."

Kurt still stood in the backyard ten minutes after Dave left before he realized he must look like a complete and utter fool. He went back inside and quickly retreated to his room, not wanting to be seen by anyone. Kurt sat down on his bed, trying to keep his frantic breathing in check. _You're just so used to him, that's all_. _You're afraid of going off to college and leaving everything behind. That's all. It's okay, Dave's right, this is for the best._ Kurt looked down at the floor, his pile of bags sat there, seeming to stare back at him. The picture of him and Dave still sat on top, right where he had put it. He picked it up and looked at the two smiling men in the picture. _What went wrong? When did things change?_ He couldn't take the happy little faces anymore and hurled the picture against the wall, shattering the glass and denting the wall in the process. "I _HATE_ you David Karofsky. I _could never_ love someone I hate as much as you!" Kurt collapsed into the fetal position on his bed, rocking himself back and forth, trying to get the tears to stop. "I hate you…I hate you…I hate you…I….I…oh god, what have I done?"

**xoxoxo**

**Just remember, if you come after me with pitchforks and torches then they'll **_**never**_** get back together.**

**The song is "For Good" from **_**Wicked**_


	37. Getting Back in the Game

November – Freshman year

Kurt pulled his jacket up and over his head and hung it on one of the hooks on the wall before nudging the front door closed with his foot. Courtney, who was sitting on the couch in the living room, her arms draped over the back of it, turned around to face Kurt. "Holy hell, Kurt. It's only 7:15, that has to be the world's shortest date ever."

Kurt snorted out a disgruntled "hrmph" before plopping himself down on the couch beside his best girlfriend. "Please, a half hour of getting to hear about how me and my wardrobe are personally disenfranchising and enslaving hundreds of thousands of south eastern Asians and Indians is something I consider to officially be a date-ender. That is the _last_ time I pick a guy up at a freakin' all-natural food store."

Courtney smiled and rubbed Kurt's back. It was only his second attempt at dating since arriving in New York. The first date had been equally tragic with Kurt getting in a fight with his date over the benefits and drawbacks of organized sports. After listening to his date rant about how football, hockey and equally "heathenistic, testosterone-driven blood-rights" were destroying the advanced western world, Kurt had been hard pressed not to beat him over the head with a hockey stick. After dating Dave for almost a year and a half Kurt had discovered he actually had a fondness for hockey, though football was still completely beyond him. He had even bonded with Burt over hockey: watching the occasional professional game on TV with him and actually able to keep up a conversation with Burt on the subject. It was a good thing too, if he didn't enjoy hockey, he might be tempted to kill Courtney for monopolizing the television every time her beloved Jonathan Ericsson was playing.

Like at that very moment. Commentators were replaying a phenomenal save by Red Wings' goalie Jimmy Howard while Courtney poured out more popcorn into her bowl for Kurt to share with her. Accepting the consolation prize from Courtney, he decided to put his awful date behind him and try and enjoy the game with her. "What's the score?"

Courtney placed the popcorn bowl in her lap and scooped up a handful of the salty snack. "Nil, so far. We're only five minutes in." Courtney shoved the fist of popcorn in her mouth and settled back into the plush cushions of the couch.

A little over an hour later they were into the second period with popcorn all over the floor and couch. Courtney had jumped up earlier spilling the bowl all over the place after the Red Wings made two phenomenal goals less than five minutes apart. Kurt, normally obsessive about cleaning, didn't even care he was so excited. The score was now 5-2 Red Wings with two of the Red Wings' goals having been made by a rookie. Kurt had his hand gripped around Courtney's wrist, digging his nails into her wrist excitedly as the rookie and Datsyuk made their way, alone, down the ice towards the Maple Leafs' goal. Datsyuk had the puck and, despite having a perfect shot, passed the shot off to the rookie who slammed the puck in between the goalie's legs. Kurt and Courtney both screamed (though Kurt's was more of a squeal) and flew off the couch, jumping up and down, their hands clasped together as they bounced around each other in a circle, no doubt annoying the hell out of their downstairs neighbor.

Courtney's phone started vibrating, almost furiously, and Courtney dislodged herself from Kurt's grip to answer it. "Hello?"

"_Tell me you saw that!"_

"Duh! Of course I did!" Courtney put the phone down on the side table by the couch and put it onto speakerphone. "Kurt and I are both watching. That was absolutely incredible."

Kurt leaned over Courtney to get close enough to the phone that Dave could hear him. "Oh my god, did you see what Datsyuk did? He totally could have taken that for himself, but he just wanted to see Matshna-whatever-the-hell-his-name-is get a hat trick."

"_Hey Kurt. Haha, I know, right? That was re-donk-ulous."_

Talking to Dave was getting gradually easier for Kurt. Dave came to New York often enough for visits and did his best to keep things normal between them, so hanging out with his ex wasn't nearly as awkward as Kurt had feared it would be. Dave acted so completely natural around Kurt that, aside from the lack of physical contact, it was almost as though they had never broken up…_almost_. "So how's school treating you?"

"_Classes are making my brain melt. But other than that, everything is good."_

Courtney screwed up her face in confusion. "What classes are _you_ having trouble with?"

"_Ugh. Those mandatory literature courses. I love reading and all, but I __**hate**__ analyzing literature. Can't you just…I dunno, accept it at face value? Everything has to have some deeper meaning; symbolism, morals, metaphors, foreshadowing, blah, blah, blah."_

Kurt laughed, that type of stuff was simple for him. "Tell you what, you help me with my chemistry class and I'll help you with literature."

"_Psha! Chemistry is easy. Just don't mix bases and acids and you'll be good…or you can have a lot of fun and ignore that advice. Bee-Tee-Dubs, I'm not coming up this weekend."_

Kurt felt slightly disappointed. He and Courtney had been planning on taking Dave for a New York-style night on the town. Courtney's disappointment was evident in her question. "Why not? Don't you love us anymore?" Kurt whacked her on the arm for phrasing her question that way.

"_Hah. Yeah, always and forever. I just, you know…have a"_ Dave cleared his throat, uncomfortably. _"…a date."_

Kurt barely had time to register his own feeling of sorrow at that before Courtney, quite literally, "squee-ed" in his ear. "Tell us all about it. What's his name, where'd you meet, what's he do, is he a student, what's his major?"

"_Um…well, this chick…" _Kurt's eyes went wide _chick? "…in one of my classes made me go with her to a BLGT meeting-"_

Kurt felt the need to interrupt Dave in order to correct him. "It's LGBT."

"_That sounds like a sandwich or something…OOoo, I know what I'm making for dinner, now. Anyway, we went together and this dude was totally flirting with me, but it was really…uncomfortable. I mean, this guy was bigger than me. Not fat or anything, but like, one of those dudes that works-out for fun; not my type. Anyway, he couldn't tell that I totally wasn't feeling it, but this other dude, Adam, did and he pretended to be my boyfriend in order to get the other guy to back off. So now we have a date this weekend."_

"Oh, I'm so happy for you, Dave!" Courtney had her hands clasped together in front of her chest. She looked as though she were praying for him.

Kurt decided to be a good sport and root for Dave as well. "We'll be crossing our fingers for you. But only if you promise to call us immediately after the date and tell us all about it."

Courtney nodded and patted Kurt on the back, obviously agreeing with his conditions. "Yeah, you better, Davey."

"_Yeah, yeah, I will."_ Dave forced himself to chuckle at them. He didn't want them to think anything was wrong. This was the fourth date he had been on since getting to school and each time he had been obstinate and standoffish with his date. He had to remind himself that Kurt wasn't in his future and he would have to be nice to other guys if he had any hope of dating again.

"So how are things with the team?" A month ago Dave had been having issues with his hockey team. They wouldn't let him into the locker room if they were in there and Dave was refusing to stand up for himself. Kurt was very curious to know if any progress had been made since the last time he broached the question.

"_Meh. They're better. I guess I've kind of proven myself to them. I mean, it's still super uncomfortable in the locker room, but I keep to myself and change in the corner away from everyone else and things have definitely improved. I even went out drinking with a few of them the week before last. One of the guys is cool with me being gay. He even said to the others that it was just more puck-bunnies for them. That seemed to lighten a few of them up."_

Kurt tried to sound happy for Dave, despite feeling bad that he had to put up with those kinds of medieval attitudes. "That's great, Dave."

"Yeah, Davey. Just remember to call us if you need to kvetch or anything. Talk to you later, hun. Love you."

Courtney held the phone next to Kurt so he could offer his farewell. "Don't forget to call us this weekend Dave…"

"_Don't worry, I'll call. See you soon, love you guys."_

"L…" Kurt caught himself before making the situation awkward. "…later."

Courtney tapped "end call" on her phone before placing it off to the side. Kurt busied himself trying to re-engross himself in the game. Given the amount of time it took to clean up all the hats off the ice and go through the instant replays from every angle and the slow motion instant replays they hadn't missed too much. The score was still the same and one of the Red Wings was in the penalty box, but then again, so was one of the Maple Leafs. Courtney poked Kurt in the arm; he just shrugged her off. A moment later she did it again. Kurt turned to face her, finding her grinning like a madman. "What?"

"I heard that."

Kurt furrowed his brow. "Heard what?"

"You almost said you love him."

Kurt shook his head. "Oh, grow up."


	38. Tyson

February – Freshman year

Dave was still exhausted from the beating he had taken in the game the previous night. He had a heavy purple and green bruise going up the outside of his thigh to his hip. One of the opposing players had taken a bad turn and had to go down on one knee to avoid flopping onto his face. Dave had been 'lucky' enough to trip over the guy's broken stick and landed in his lap, hard. One of his own teammates, who had been following close behind him, hadn't been able to stop in time and landed on top of Dave, grinding Dave's thigh into the other guy's knee. The medics told him to take it easy for a few days, but Dave knew better. If he didn't keep on the ice and keep himself stretched out he would tense up, his muscles would refuse to cooperate, and he would be out of the game for far longer than he wanted. So here he was, out on the ice, less than sixteen hours later doing gentle laps around the rink.

Dave finished up one final lap before deciding to take a break to switch out his ankle tape. He sat on one of the benches and fumbled through his bag for his tape. When he pulled the roll out, he decided there was not enough to do half an ankle, let alone both and padded, sans-skates, over to the adjoining sports shop. It was one of several stores on campus where you could buy college sweaters and Gatorade bottles, but, unlike the other stores, you could actually get _real_ sports equipment there. Dave grabbed up a couple rolls of tape before finding his way over to the hockey equipment.

Picking up a new Easton stick he hadn't seen before, he balanced it in the palm of his hand before holding it in a proper shooting stance and firing off a few pretend goals. Dave flipped the stick over and checked on the flex on the blade. As he examined it, he noticed someone watching him. He nodded politely at the young man before going back to checking out his soon-to-be new purchase. Dave grabbed his tape back up and propped the stick over his shoulder like a rifle. As he headed over to the cashier, he noticed that same guy looking at him, smiling as his head tilted down then back up again. _Holy shit, he's checking me out._

Dave had ended up dating Adam for all of two weeks before his whiny attitude got on Dave's nerves. He had had a few unsuccessful dates since then, but nothing that really sparked his interest. This guy was cute, looked fairly low-maintenance, and was in a _sports_ shop for christ's sake. This guy was a definite 'maybe'.

Dave paid for his purchases and headed back out to the bench. Dave rolled his socks down and unwrapped the tape. A moment later he could feel a presence sit down on the bench next to him. "Hey. I've seen you around, never took you for an athlete. I'm Tyson"

Dave looked up at the guy as he continued to wind the tape around his ankle. "Seriously? People usually figure out I'm an athlete a lot quicker than they figure out I'm gay."

"Yes, well, up until a few weeks ago I had a boyfriend which _kind of_ prevented me from analyzing my fellow gays on campus too closely." He quirked the corner of his lips up into a cute smile before looking Dave over once again.

Dave returned his smile, blushing slightly. "You're pretty straightforward, aren't you?"

Tyson shrugged, keeping Dave's eye contact. "I wasted six months of my life on the same piece of crap. I'm more than ready to get back out there, and I, for one, am not going to waste time on someone I'm not interested in."

Dave was truly flattered. A few guys had flirted with him over the past few months, but none of them were half as attractive as this guy. He had, what Dave would describe, as a Mediterranean complexion. A more accurate description would be an olive skin tone. He had the darkest brown eyes Dave had ever seen before and shaggy, wavy black hair. Dave wasn't really certain how to respond to such blatant flirting, so, back to his default, he asked the first thing that popped into his head. "So…what's so interesting about me?"

Dave and Tyson skated for a good hour together before they decided to head out for lunch together. Six hours after that and Dave and Tyson were walking out of a diner together, still laughing and joking. Tyson was so easy going and fun to be around. He liked sports, could match Dave drink for drink and was a pre-law student. Dave had Tyson's hand in his and they were swinging their arms back and forth as they made their way down the street, both still slightly drunk. "You have got to be one of the sexiest bears I have ever seen."

Dave blushed again and let out a purr-like growl. "Grrrr…"

Tyson laughed heartily. "Bears say 'woof'."

Dave furrowed his brows. "What zoos have you been hanging out at?"

Tyson took his hand out of Dave's and wrapped his arm around Dave's waist. "You're joking, right?" Tyson looked up at Dave who just shrugged. "It's a _gay_ thing, Davey-bear."

"There are zoos for gay animals?"

Tyson laughed again at that. If Tyson weren't so attractive and kind hearted, Dave would have been put off by how often Tyson laughed at Dave's harmless questions and comments. "Bears, twinks, ring any bells?" Dave shook his head. "I thought you said you were in a steady relationship for a year and a half? How could you not know about bears and twinks?"

"I dunno, never came up I guess."

Tyson poked Dave in the chest. "You, my dear, are a bear. A big, strong, fluffy, manly-man. Twinks are effeminate, hairless, little girly-boys." Dave frowned; Tyson's description of 'twink' was obviously intended to apply to guys like Kurt, but Dave still didn't like someone referring to Kurt as a 'girly-boy'. However, the warm fuzziness in his head soon soothed over any objections he might have to that description of Kurt and Dave pulled Tyson closer to him. Tipping the slightly shorter man's head back he kissed Tyson softly on the lips. When Dave pulled away from the kiss, Tyson had a mild look of surprise on his face. Dave was terrified he had moved too fast and was at risk of scaring Tyson away, but Tyson shocked him by lifting both his hands to the sides of Dave's face and pulling him back down into a deep kiss.

xoxoxo

April – Freshman year

"Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh. That's great. You two have fun!" Kurt had the worst fake smile plastered over his face but it disappeared as soon as he hung up the phone. "Tyson is so amazingly sweet. Tyson and I are going to Hershey Park next weekend. Tyson tells the funniest jokes, gah!" Courtney looked up from her studying at hearing Kurt's little rant.

"I take it you don't like Tyson?"

Kurt jumped over the back of the couch and flopped down, burying his face in the cushions. "He's so annoying."

"Oh, come on, Kurt. You've met him, what? Twice?"

Kurt shrugged, each time had felt like an eternity. "He just seems so…_fake."_

"Uh-huh. You're just jealous."

Kurt sat up and pulled a pillow into his lap. "Why should I be jealous? I have Michael and he is beyond sweet."

"Then why do you care who Dave's with? You should be happy that he's happy."

"I _am_ happy that he's happy. But I also know that he isn't going to _stay_ happy. Not with a douche like that." Kurt put the pillow back and rolled over so that he was staring at the ceiling.

"Why is he a douche?"

"He just…ugh! He reminds me of the first gay guy I had a crush on." Courtney had heard of Blaine in passing before, but didn't know the story behind their entropy. "Blaine was so sweet and perfect at first. He could do absolutely no wrong. Then I start going to his school and little by little I find myself changing: being forced to be content being a background character, belittled for liking standing out. Blaine was going out of his way to…_sculpt _me…and I _let_ him! I was so enamored with how perfect he was. And then, after he sends me all these signals that he'd like to get closer to me, I try to flirt with him a bit. Then he completely freaks out and treats me like shit. Like I'm some…ignorant little brat."

Courtney shook her head. "I'm sorry, aside from the 'perfect' that doesn't sound anything _like_ Tyson."

"Oh-ho, you trust me. If you had met Blaine, you'd think he _was_ Blaine."

Courtney was chewing the inside of her cheek. "I dunno. I think you just don't _want_ to like Tyson. He has what you want and you're pissed you missed out on it."

Kurt threw a pillow at Courtney. "I do _not_ want Dave back. I'm perfectly happy without him. I have a wonderful boyfriend who I have everything in common with."

Courtney sat up in her chair and put the pillow onto the seat under her to cushion it. "Mm…must be fun dating yourself."

"Ha-ha, Courtney. Finish your paper on thermodynamics and stop telling _me_ how _I_ feel." Kurt massaged his temples before trying to get to sleep on the couch.


	39. Won't Say I'm

Summer – between Freshman/Sophomore year

"I dunno, I think I like the red better." Mercedes held her toes up to examine them, comparing the red left toenails to the gold right toenails. Rachel was busy shaking up the bottles getting ready to crack open whichever one Mercedes ended up going with.

Kurt sat on the couch in Courtney's parents' living room, mixing up a second batch of virgin margaritas. Courtney was in the kitchen making some sort of weird chemical concoction and occasionally laughing to herself (as is appropriate for a mad scientist). Kurt, Rachel, Mercedes, and Courtney were all having a slumber party while Courtney's family was on vacation; Courtney, still recuperating from the previous semester, had declined to join her family. And truth be told, she missed Lima; being in Lima _was_ a vacation to Courtney.

Rachel and Mercedes were also home from college. Rachel, surprising everyone, had opted not to study theatre or music and was instead studying political science. Kurt wasn't sure which shocked him more; the fact that Rachel had given up her Broadway dream or that he had never thought to picture her in politics before. Mercedes was studying psychology and wanted to be a social worker someday.

Kurt sipped the margarita and poured it into four cups: one for each of them. "You should go for the gold, Merc. It's flashy, yet classy. Totally you."

Courtney came back into the living room clutching what looked like a large plastic water dispenser with a plastic spigot on it, filled with green ooze of some kind. She left it on the coffee table and ran out to the back pantry. Rachel eyed the dispenser like some kind of evil menace. "_What _is _that_?"

Courtney came back in carrying a cardboard box and a plastic grocery bag. She sat down on the floor in front of the spigot and started pulling rubber balloons out of the grocery bag. "_This _is a little bit of fun we're going to have with my dearest cousins tonight."

Mercedes furrowed her brow. "Water balloons?"

Courtney tied off the first balloon. "Kind of…except water balloons are usually filled with…_water. This_ is probably closer to that crap they fill paint balls with except more washable and watered down. _We_ are going to throw them at their windows."

Rachel shook her head, but smiled in spite of herself. "I swear, is everyone in your family mentally damaged?"

"Yep." Kurt was the one to answer since Courtney was too busy trying to fill up the balloons with the perfect amount of ooze to answer Rachel.

As she tied up the second balloon, Court looked up at Rachel. "Uncle Paul actually taught us how to make these when we were little. They're great when we have family reunions in the summer. You can do different colors so you can tell who got hit by what team."

Mercedes picked up one of the balloons and passed it back and forth between her hands. "This won't stain their house?"

Courtney shook her head. "No, not really. Dave has to power wash the house this week anyway. So, I figure we might as well give him something to actually clean."

Kurt shook his head. "You and Jenny act like such…_guys _sometimes."

"Oh! Speaking of Jennifer," Mercedes leaned in close to Kurt, Rachel and Courtney getting ready to get her gossip on. "Guess who rigged up Coach Sylvester's confetti cannon so that it fired those tiny little Styrofoam packing balls instead of paper strips? Tina says the Cheerios were picking Styrofoam out of their clothes and hair for a _week_."

Courtney shook her head, smiling fondly. "God, I wish I could have gone to McKinley with my cuzzes. All girls' schools suck. Majorly."

Kurt had to agree with that one. "No kidding, Dalton was so horribly stifling. Nothing fun _ever_ happened there."

Half an hour later, Courtney had all the balloons filled and loaded up in the box. Rachel, not wanting to actually throw any of the balloons, but more than happy enough to observe, carried the box for the others. Courtney pointed out which windows belonged to which Karofsky. Mercedes and Kurt were a bit tentative, but Courtney just picked up the first balloon, pulled her arm back and swung it at Miri and Jenny's window with expert precision. Mercedes picked a balloon and, while she was debating whether or not she really wanted to go through with it, Courtney hurled a second balloon at the window, this time hitting the side of the house just next to the window.

Mercedes, not thinking anymore, tossed the balloon underhanded and hit the bottom right hand corner of the window. Kurt watched as the light flicked on in the bedroom. Courtney grabbed Mercedes' arm and the four friends ran around to the other side of the house where Dave and Joe's windows could be found. Courtney, Mercedes and Kurt began hurling the balloons at the three windows (two for Dave on the second floor, one for Joseph in the attic). Suddenly Dave's window slid open and he stuck his head out. Dave looked like he had just woken up and he probably had. Dazedly looking around it finally dawned on him what was going on. Kurt and Courtney were still tossing the balloons, though. One of Kurt's balloons hit the side of Dave's windowpanes and splattered, turning half of Dave's face a forest green.

Kurt burst out laughing. Dave sputtered for a moment, trying to figure out how to react. "I'm gonna _kill_ all of you!" Dave hoisted himself out of the window and onto the narrow overhang of roof a few feet below it.

"He's not really gonna jump, is he?" Kurt turned around to direct the question to Courtney only to see her, Mercedes and Rachel running back to the safety of Courtney's house. Kurt quickly followed after, checking over his shoulder to see Dave hit the ground and come thundering after him. Kurt threw himself into Courtney's house and slammed the door behind, latching the lock just in time to hear Dave bang on it.

"Don't think you can hide forever, Hummel." Kurt smiled; Dave didn't sound at all angry, just playful mad. Kurt hooked up the chain latch on the door and then unlocked the deadbolt, opening it just enough to stick his tongue out at Dave. Dave made a grab for Kurt, but Kurt got the door closed and properly locked again.

Kurt joined Mercedes and Rachel out in the living room. They were all panting from running and laughing too hard. "Oh my god. That was too much." Rachel fanned herself with her hand. "I've wanted someone to do something like that to him since we joined New Directions."

Courtney came back out from the kitchen where she had deposited the remaining balloons and sat down next to Mercedes on the couch. Mercedes scooted over a little to give her more room before responding to Rachel. "You have to admit, he looked pretty cute all huffy and pissed."

Rachel waved Mercedes away as if to say 'puh-lease.' "Honestly, the only time he _isn't_ adorable is when he's being mean to our boy Kurt."

Kurt smiled, "You should see him when he's sad or frustrated; he just lets out these sad little squeaks and whimpers. It's like a cartoon or something. Oh, but even cuter than that is when he's thinking really hard. He sticks his tongue out a little at the corner, or he just lets his jaw slacken a bit and hangs his tongue over his bottom lip. He starts chewing on his tongue if he's thinking exceptionally hard."

Rachel and Mercedes exchanged a knowing smile. Kurt noticed it and smiled at them. "What?"

Courtney was scooping all the manicure supplies off the floor and put them on the coffee table where they wouldn't get kicked or stepped on. "I think they just realized how much you miss dating Davey."

Kurt shook his head. "I've told you before, Court. I don't want him back."

"Uh, huh. Sure."

Kurt shot Mercedes a look, "Oh, shut up, Mercedes. Dave and I have been done for ten months."

Rachel covered her mouth, suppressing a giggle. "Oh wow, do you know how many weeks, too?"

Kurt rolled his eyes, "Two, why?"

Rachel started laughing in earnest and slapped Mercedes thigh. Mercedes grabbed Rachel's hand and turned to face her. "He _still_ has the wicked hots for Dave!"

Courtney propped her head up on her fist and watched Kurt with a little smirk on her face. "He is _so_ in love with him."

Kurt's eyes went wide and he glared at Courtney. "I…AM…_NOT_!"

The three girls looked at each other and said in harmony "Yes, you are."

Kurt got up off the floor, stamping his foot and turning away from them, a blush creeping over his cheeks. "Oh, come on, Kurt. Just say it."

Kurt stamped his foot again, refusing to face them. "It's not true! I won't say it. I won't say I'm…" A smile spread over his lips. And he crossed his arms over his chest.

_If there's a prize for rotten judgment_

_I guess I've already won that_

_No man is worth the aggravation_

_That's ancient history, been there, done that!_

Kurt could hear Mercedes' unmistakable giggling behind him and a moment later, the three girlfriends took up the tune.

_Who'd'ya think you're kiddin'_

_He's the Earth and Heaven to you_

_Try to keep it hidden_

_Honey, we can see right through you_

_Boy, ya can't conceal it_

_We know how ya feel and_

_Who you're thinking of_

Kurt turned to face them, wagging a finger at them:

_No chance, no way_

_I won't say it, no, no_

The girls were getting up off the couch and approaching him now:

_You swoon, you sigh_

_Why deny it? uh-oh_

Kurt crossed his hands back over his chest and walked away from them:

_It's too cliche_

_I won't say I'm in love!_

_I thought my heart had learned its lesson_

_It feels so good when you start out_

_My head is screaming get a grip, boy_

_Unless you're dying to cry your heart out_

Kurt could feel Rachel's hands on his shoulders and Mercedes and Courtney each took one of his hand:

_You keep on denying_

_Who you are and how you're feeling_

_Baby, we're not buying_

_Hon, we saw ya hit the ceiling_

_Face it like a grown-up_

_When ya gonna own up_

_That ya got, got, got it bad_

Kurt pulled away from them and turned around to stare them down again:

_No chance, now way_

_I won't say it, no, no!_

Courtney poked Kurt in the cheek as he tried to maintain his poker face:

_Give up, give in_

_Check the grin you're in love_

Kurt swatted her hand away and backed himself into a corner:

_This scene won't play,_

_I won't say I'm in love_

Mercedes grabbed him by the forearm and pulled him back into the center of the room:

_You're doin flips read our lips_

_You're in love_

Kurt stepped around the coffee table, heading back towards the couch:

_You're way off base_

_I won't say it!_

_Get off my case_

_I won't say it!_

The girls all pulled Kurt into a group hug, and kissed him on the cheek:

_Boy, don't be proud_

_It's okay you're in love_

Pulling himself out of their hug, Kurt flopped down onto the couch, completely defeated:

_Oh-oh-oh-oooooh_

_At least out loud,_

_I won't say I'm in love _

Rachel and Mercedes sat beside Kurt on the couch while Courtney plopped herself onto the arm of the couch. "Doesn't that feel good to get that off your chest."

Kurt took Mercedes' hand and gave it a lukewarm squeeze. "No, I feel worse than before. He's so happy with Tyson."

Rachel patted Kurt's hand, still encased by Mercedes'. "They won't be together forever. And when they break up, you'll be there to snatch that boy back up."

"What if he isn't in love with _me_ anymore?"

"Hah!" They all turned to face Courtney. "As happy as he is with Tyson, he is still head over heals for you. Don't you worry about _that_." Kurt leaned his head against Rachel's shoulder, daydreaming of the day when he could take back _his_ man.

**xoxoxo**

**The Song is "Won't Say I'm in Love" from Disney's _Hercules_**

**Am I the only one surprised/pissed that Glee hasn't covered any Disney songs yet?**


	40. This is the Place

Fall – Sophomore year (the Thursday before Thanksgiving break)

"Well, who'd have thought? Kurt looks pretty good in a skirt."

Dave smiled and squeezed Tyson's hand. "It's all for the play. Kurt's not actually into that kinda stuff."

Kurt had scored the lead in the school's fall theatre production and tonight was it's final performance. David and Tyson had driven over from Pennsylvania to see Kurt in action. The play was _Baby With the Bathwater,_ about a sexually confused man, named Daisy, following him from birth until his first successful relationship. It wasn't a musical, much to Kurt's chagrin, but at least it was the lead in a play at New York's most renowned theatre school. The roll called for Kurt to wear a dress in several scenes and he only appeared halfway through the play, but he was far from complaining.

"You know, I'm surprised Kurt doesn't go for, you know…"

Dave shook his head. "Kurt's not a transsexual."

"A shame, he's a prime candidate." Dave furrowed his brows and looked at Tyson in the dim light of the theatre. "I mean, think about it. He looks more or less like a chick already. He likes dudes. And honestly, what full-fledged gay man is gonna get off on that?" Dave was about to interject, but Tyson stopped him. "He was the only gay guy you knew, I'm not blaming you for liking him, but think about it; he looks like a prepubescent boy or a flat-chested teenage girl. If he went M to F, he would be absolutely stunning." Dave turned back to Kurt's performance, not entirely certain how to digest what Tyson was saying. "You'd either have to be a pedophile or a freak to actually get off on that."

Dave could feel himself tense up. _Is that true? Is Kurt a turn-on to pedophiles? _Dave didn't consider himself a pedophile, but couldn't help wondering for a good long while afterwards if there really was something wrong with him for being attracted to Kurt. And he couldn't deny that some of what Tyson had said rang true; Kurt was so effeminate in appearance, mannerisms, speech and demeanor that Dave had truly been confused about his own sexual identity for longer than necessary. He had spent the better half of his sophomore year in high school trying to decide if he was a gay man attracted to the beautiful freshman boy or a straight man attracted to the idea of a female Kurt.

Dave decided to not respond to any of what Tyson had said. Tyson was so good-hearted and sweet and gentle that he couldn't possibly realize what he said was mildly upsetting. And Tyson and Kurt got along so well that Tyson's occasional remark obviously didn't affect Kurt any; after all, after Kurt's boyfriend Michael had returned home to Texas for good at the end of last semester, Tyson had been so kind in comforting Kurt. He was the picture perfect boyfriend. What other boyfriend would willingly be so friendly to his guy's ex?

xoxoxo

It had been a long three and a half hour drive: Dave and Tyson up front, Kurt and Courtney in the back. They were going to drop Tyson back off at school before continuing the rest of the trek home to Lima. Kurt thought he was going to hurl listening to Dave and Tyson banter back and forth.

"Pooh Bear, you really should have taken I-78, the GPS says it's much closer to school."

"No, Tigger, I-80 is closer. Trust me, I've been making this trip several times a year for two and a half years."

"Yes, Pooh, but most of those trips you were going from New York to Lima, we're not going to Lima, yet."

"I know, Tiggy, but school to New York is still closer if you take I-80."

"Well, maybe on the way there, but certainly not on the way back."

"…Why would _that_ make a difference? I-80W and I-80E are parallel."

Kurt could think of something that would make the trip _much_ shorter. Killing Tyson, slowly and painfully. Maybe strangling him to death and tossing his limp body under the wheels of an oncoming semi-truck. _Oh, god…that would be so amazing. _Or beating him over the head with his own inflated self-importance. Apparently Kurt wasn't being discreet enough about his nasty little daydreams because Courtney leaned over onto his shoulder. "What are you smiling about, watching porn on your Iphone?"

Kurt smirked and shoved Courtney off of him. Flicking open the message app on his Iphone, he sent her a quick text.

_just fantasizing about tyson…_

_TYSON?_

…_smooshed under the wheels of a mac truck_

Courtney giggled before texting him back. _u r evil! _Ever since Kurt confessed over the summer that he truly did have feelings for Dave, even stronger than he had before, Courtney had started taking his side when it came to Tyson. Something was just…_off _with that man.

Kurt shrugged and went back to staring out the window, trying to drown out Tyson's obnoxious condescending voice with his music.

When they arrived at school, they all piled out of Dave's FJ Cruiser. Dave had had to ditch the Tundra halfway through his freshman year; it had too many miles on it to handle the cross-country trips Dave was prone to making at a moment's notice. The FJ was Dave's baby though. He had even named the damned thing; _Tank_. Personally, the only way Kurt could see _any_ resemblance to a tank was if Barbie had ditched Ken and hooked up with GI Joe only to give the entire military a makeover. But, at least it was fairly good on gas as opposed to other vehicles in its class.

Kurt was doing full-on running stretches as he prepared himself for the second leg of their trip. He glanced up from one particularly satisfying calf stretch to see Dave and Tyson trying to eat each other's faces. Kurt glared; it was shameless and disgusting just how…_public _they were about their affections. Kurt pursed his lips and turned back away from them. Courtney had a very self-satisfied smile on her face. She held her earbuds up to Kurt. "You look like you could use some background angst."

He popped the earbuds in and listened as Courtney started up one of the strangest songs Kurt had ever heard midway through the song:

_Handsome_

_Tender_

_Soft_

_Why do you look right through me_

_thinking_

_"No"_

_I can't deny my feelings_

_Growing strong_

_I try to keep believing_

_Dreaming on_

_And every time I see you_

_I crave more_

_I wanna pull you closer_

_Closer_

_Closer_

_Closer_

_But you leave me feeling frozen_

_Malchik gay_

_Malchik gay_

_I can be_

_All you need_

_Won't you please_

_Stay with me_

_Malchik gay_

_Malchik gay_

_Apologies, might-have-been's_

_Malchik gay_

_Malchik gay_

_Can't erase what I feel_

_Malchik gay, gay_

_Malchik gay_

_Malchik gay_

_Choking_

_Back emotion_

_I try to keep on hoping_

_For a way;_

_A reason for us both to_

_Come in_

_Close_

_I long for you to hold me_

_Like your boyfriend does_

_And though my dream is_

_Slowly fading_

_I wanna be the object_

_Object_

_Object_

_Object_

_Of your passion but it's hopeless_

Kurt pulled the earbuds back out and handed the MP3 player back to Courtney. "Funny…very funny. Where do you even _find_ this stuff?"

Courtney tucked her Ipod into her pocket and shrugged. "I'm just…eclectic. My favorite movie is _Al irhab wa al kebab_, my favorite television show is _Keeping up Appearances, _my favorite reading material is "A Modest Proposal," my favorite music is Carl Orff. I just like what I like."

Kurt looked back to see Dave and Tyson holding each other at arms length as they said a few last parting words. "Yeah?" Kurt responded, "Well _I_ just like what _I_ like."

Dave and Tyson started heading over to the two of them. Dave went around the other side of the SUV and got back into the driver's seat, readjusting everything and getting it road-ready. Courtney gave a friendly hug to Tyson while making goofy faces at Kurt over Ty's shoulder. Courtney's face returned to a pleasant smile as she backed out of the hug. "It was nice seeing you again. We'll catch you again next Sunday when we drop Davey-boy back off."

"You make sure you do that, hun." Courtney climbed back into the driver's side back seat of the Tank while Tyson turned to face Kurt, his arms open in an awaiting embrace. Kurt plastered on his best fake smile and walked into Tyson's waiting arms, returning the hug to the best of his ability. "Stop by and visit _any_ time, Kurt." Kurt felt his eyes practically bulge out of his head as Tyson punctuated his statement by copping a feel of Kurt's ass. And not simply a cheek, but actually running his fingers down the length of Kurt's crack. Kurt pulled away from Tyson and backed up to the car, completely at a loss for words. Kurt climbed into the front passenger seat and buckled up, still in a slight daze. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Dave blowing a kiss towards Tyson. Kurt looked out the window and saw Tyson casually waving at Dave as though nothing had just happened.

xoxoxo

Kurt wasn't able to spend any time alone with Courtney until Sunday night, having been completely monopolized by his family for the past day. "I'm not kidding you Courtney! If I wasn't wearing pants he would have been _fingering_ me. What the hell do we do?"

Courtney frowned; she had known Kurt long enough to know he wasn't lying to her, but it still didn't sound like something Tyson would do. "We…what can we do, I mean, seriously?"

"We tell Dave his perfect little gay god made the moves on me!" Kurt was pacing back and forth in Courtney's room in front of her bed while she sat on the edge, listening to him.

"Be logical about this, Kurt. You love Dave and want to get in his pants, correct?"

Kurt put his hands on his hips, and shot Courtney his best bitch-face. "I want a hell of a lot more than _that_."

"Well then, _you_ can't tell Dave what happened. He won't believe you! He'll think you're just trying to separate him and Tyson."

Kurt sat on the bed next to Courtney. "Why do you always have to be right?" Kurt lay back on the bed and stared blankly up at the ceiling. Courtney lay back next to him and placed one arm across his chest. Cuddling with Courtney wasn't the least bit unusual to Kurt. The two were like tween girlfriends. "Hey, Court…how come you don't ever date?"

He could feel Courtney shrug next to him. "Just not interested in it."

"Are you…"

"No. I wondered for a while when I was in middle school. But no. I'm definitely attracted to the _idea_ of having a guy. But the reality of it just isn't for me. I really don't care for the _physical_ aspects of a relationship and I have friends that I can do the whole emotional mind-meld thing with. Honestly, I just want to spend the rest of my life as a corporate bitch."

Kurt chuckled. "What about engineering? I thought that was your dream?"

"It is. I'm going to be in charge of my own engineering team some day. You know what you should do?" Kurt let out a little 'hmmm?' "Dave's going to McKinley tomorrow to visit Coach Bieste and Coach Fjalar and a couple of his old teachers. You should tag along. You two could use a little alone time. No me. No Tyson. Just the two of you." Courtney walked her index and middle fingers up Kurt's chest.

Kurt placed his hand over hers to keep it still. "You want me to flirt with an attached man?"

Courtney sucked in her upper lip thoughtfully. "No, I just think you should remind him you're still there."

xoxoxo

His reunion with Mr. Schu had been wonderful, as predicted. He got to show off his talents to the new New Directions and positively blew them away. While their numbers had certainly grown, their talents hadn't so much. They had no Rachel, no Kurt and no Mercedes. They weren't that bad though, just average. Kurt had already visited with the rest of his former faculty and they were all thrilled to hear of a Lima Loser actually heading somewhere in his life.

As Dave was Kurt's ride, Kurt headed out to the football field to meet up with him. Their 'alone time' hadn't gone exactly as Kurt had hoped. The five-minute ride from Kurt's home to the school had been more or less quiet and once they got to school they had gone their own separate ways. Dave's favorite teachers were a far cry from Kurt's favorite teachers.

It took Kurt a few minutes to pick Dave out of the crowd on the football field. Kurt had been expecting Dave to be off to the side talking with the Bieste, but Dave was right in the thick of the action, in the middle of the field running training exercises with the high school football players. Kurt realized that this was probably going to take a while and began climbing up the bleachers to get a good view of the field and the practice.

Kurt smiled as Dave collided with a tackle dummy full force and went head over heels onto the turf. Apparently college level athletics had increased Dave's strength and stamina significantly. And he had thinned out quite a bit since Kurt had called him chubby. He was still a big boy, but it was all lean, gorgeous muscle. Kurt looked around and tried to ignore how much the thought of Dave was turning him on, but quickly regretted it. As he looked around, he realized that the last time he had been up here in the bleachers he had been at his junior prom. _Oh god…how the hell did I give that up?_

Kurt stood up and began pacing across the bleachers, trying to erase the thoughts from his head, but they were quickly replaced by the memories of the night before the verdicts. _Why did I come here? This stupid football field, this stupid school, this damn place! The only way this could get any worse is if we agreed to meet up in the locker room._

Kurt stopped pacing on the bleachers and looked down to the field, spotting Dave running sideways through old car tires.

_Do you believe we could start again_

_Be the way we were, we used to be then_

_Am I wrong in thinking we could turn back the clock_

_And get back what was, get back what is lost, oh no_

_I never knew how much I really needed you too_

_And now you're gone and it's too late 'cause I've lost you_

_This is the place where we laughed_

_Where we danced_

_Where we walked in the rain_

_Now it's not the same_

_This is the place where you cried_

_And I wiped all the tears from your face_

_This is the place_

_Love has taken a hold over me_

_I was mesmerized, but now I can see_

_And I remember when we were on fire_

_And you told me how you'd never been higher, so high_

_I never knew how much I really needed you, too_

_And now you're gone, it's too late 'cause I've lost you_

_This is the place where we laughed_

_Where we danced_

_Where we walked in the rain_

_Now it's not the same_

_This is the place where you cried_

_And I wiped all the tears from your face_

_I really wanna hear you call my name_

_I tell myself that we can do it again_

_It should be really easy, not the end_

_We were made for each other_

_A friend and a lover_

_I really wanna lose myself in you_

_Cause no one else could love you the way that I do_

_And every time I find somebody new_

_That's when I discover_

_There's nobody other, other than you_

_I never knew how much I really needed you too_

_And now you're gone, it's too late 'cause I've lost you_

_This is the place where we laughed_

_Where we danced_

_Where we walked in the rain_

_Now it's not the same_

_This is the place where you cried_

_And I wiped all the tears from your face_

_Do you believe, we could start again_

_Be the way we were, the way we were then…_

As Kurt let the final note die in the air, Dave began jogging up the bleachers. "Hey, Kurt! Didn't mean to keep you waiting. Bieste wanted me to show them what a real NCAA workout looks like."

Kurt smiled, but Dave couldn't see how much the smile pained Kurt. "Yeah, I was watching. You looked really great down there…I mean, compared to _them_."

Dave ran his hand through his hair awkwardly. "Yeah, they're pretty green compared to me, I guess." As Kurt started walking down the bleachers Dave remained behind a minute, trying to will himself not to blush.

**xoxoxo**

**First song is 'Malchik Gay' by T.A.T.Y (or T.A.T.U. depending on if you prefer Russian or American)**

**Second song is 'This is the Place' from _The Tribe_**

**If you've never heard it, youtube it...don't actually watch the music video though, it's kinda weird unless you've ever seen _The Tribe_**

**_BTWs thanks for all the phenom reviews for this as well as for my other two fics. You're all so amazing!_**


	41. Mamma Mia

Late January – Sophomore year

Winter break had been too long for Kurt's taste; he had just wanted to get back to school and back into the swing of things. Of course, now that he had homework again he wished he were back on vacation. Dave still had break until the following Monday, but he was driving back to school today; Kurt had talked to him on the phone earlier when he hit the Pennsylvania border. Currently, Kurt was trying to create some kind of masterpiece for dinner while he did his reading for his dramatic arts class. Looked like the masterpiece would probably be something from Campbells. "Courtney! I'm going shopping tomorrow, make a food list!" He wasn't certain whether or not she heard him from her bedroom, but he would remind her later anyway.

As Kurt rifled through the drawers trying to find the good can opener, he could hear his phone start vibrating against the counter. He looked up and caught it just as it vibrated itself off the edge and twisted it in his hand, sliding the "answer" button as he did so. _Why is no one ever around when I'm a super ninja?_

"Hello?" Kurt had to pull the phone away from his ear to deal with the noise on the other end. It sounded like a Muppet or something. That Muppet, Beaker, who couldn't really talk, just make high-pitched, whiny noises. Kurt looked at the screen of his phone; a picture of Dave was showing, in his varsity hockey attire, along with his name and a clock showing the time they had been talking. "Dave, calm down, I can't understand a word you're saying."

"_My Bed! They were in __**my**__ fuckin' bed!_"

"Whoa, start over, who was in your bed." Kurt hopped up onto the counter, fearing this would take a bit of time.

"_Tyson._" Kurt was about to state that he was certain Tyson had been in his bed plenty of times before Dave continued. "_And that asshole ex of his._" _**Oh**_, Kurt thought. _"And some floozy they found at a bar." Oh, this is getting good._

"Davey, I'm so sorry." _Ding-dong the bastard's gone, the bastard's gone, the bastard's gone, ding-dong the wicked bastard's gone_! Kurt had to restrain himself from fist-pumping the air.

"_I yelled at him and he said that I should have called before I came back, and I told him he shouldn't have been sticking his schlong in some dude on my bed whether or not I call ahead. He's been sleeping around the __**whole**__ time, Kurt. The whole __**fucking**__ time! I can't believe it. I really liked him and I __**thought**__ he liked me."_

"Dave, I know this is a really horrible time to bring this up, but if he _has_ been sleeping around, you might wanna, you know…" Kurt would _kill_ Tyson if he gave his Davey anything.

"_Hmph. Not necessary. That's half the reason he was sleeping around. Aside from the fact that he's a cheap two-bit whore."_

"What do you mean?"

"_I wouldn't put out for him."_

"Dave, you know you don't have to be a bottom to get STDs, right?" It astounded Kurt how dense Dave could be sometimes.

"_No, I wouldn't put out at all. Top or bottom."_

Kurt almost lost his precarious balance on the counter-top and decided to hop down, rather than fall off and break his neck. "You and Tyson never…I mean, **never**?"

"_No. I know I would talk big in high school, but it was just that, all talk. I'm a big fuckin' coward when it comes to sex and just decided I wasn't gonna do it at all until I was with…you know, __**the one**__." _Kurt _did_ fist-pump the air this time, but made certain not to accompany it with any _whooping_ sounds. He felt bad that he was so happy about Tyson's betrayal, but at the same time he couldn't help being excited that _he_ would get to be Dave's first.

"You aren't a coward, Dave. You're just sensitive and sentimental. You're afraid of getting hurt by some asshole, and apparently, your fear was justified. I highly doubt Ty would have been faithful even if you did 'put out'. You don't just _happen_ to find yourself in a threesome." Kurt went out to the living room and threw himself down onto the couch. "I take it you're moving out of your room with him?"

"_Yeah, thankfully I hadn't managed to get any of my shit unpacked yet. Three of the guys from the team are putting me up on their couch until I can get myself settled someplace else. I'll probably just call my dad and borrow some of my grown-up fund to get an apartment of my own."_

Kurt furrowed his brow. "Your 'grown-up' fund?"

Dave let out a half-chuckle/half-sniffle on the other end of the line. _"Yeah, I had a college fund my parents set up, but once I got a full-ride my dad converted it into a 'money Dave can't touch until he grows up and learns how to handle finances wisely' fund."_ Kurt smiled to himself; that certainly sounded like something Paul would do all right.

"Tell you what Dave. You come over to New York this weekend. Me, you and Courtney will go out and get so shit-faced you will forget Tyson ever existed, okay?" _Let the wooing of David Karofsky commence_.

"_I dunno. I kind of want to mope for a while."_

"Fine, if you want to be miserable, Courtney and I will force you to go see something on Broadway, how about that?" Despite the fact that he usually ended up enjoying everything he saw with them on Broadway, Dave still had to be practically dragged, kicking and screaming, into the theatres.

"_Yeah, okay. Then we'll get drunk."_

"That's the spirit, Dave!" Kurt and Dave said their farewells and Kurt clicked the 'end call' on his phone. He climbed off the couch to find Courtney behind him.

"What was _that_ all about?" Courtney was holding a single sheet of notebook paper in her hand, probably her grocery list.

Kurt took it from her, smiling like the Cheshire Cat. "Dave and Tyson are officially over."

Courtney, unlike Kurt, had to decency to look sad. "Oh, no. What happened?"

Kurt shrugged. "Exactly what we knew would happen, eventually. Dave discovered for himself what a rat-faced fink Tyson is. He caught Tyson in a threesome in _Dave's_ bed."

"Kurt, how can you be so horrible?" Kurt's smile faded, he had expected Courtney to be thrilled. "Dave's no doubt suffering and your acting like it's Christmas all over again."

Kurt crossed his arms over his chest, crumpling the grocery list is his fist. "Well I'm sorry. I can't help but be a little excited that the man I _love_ is coming to visit this weekend, entirely unattached."

"Oh don't you even think about hitting on my cousin this weekend."

Kurt's arms went loose and his face fell. "What is your problem? You've wanted me to get back together with Dave for like, _ever_!"

Courtney put both her hands on Kurt's shoulders. "Dave is in a delicate place right now; he just got betrayed by someone he truly cared about. You _cannot_ take advantage of him right now. He's on the rebound."

Kurt shrugged Courtney's hands off. "_He _certainly had no trouble re-entering the dating game within _days_ of dumping me!"

Kurt, thinking he got the final word in, stormed off to his bedroom, but could hear Courtney yelling after him. "Kurt, you know as well as I do he's a lot more fragile than he looks. Just…give him _time_. Time to heal, time to get used to being on his own again. Once he's _ready_ to date again, I will be right behind you holding a giant fuzzy "You're #1" finger. But until then, just let him be." Kurt sat on his bed, listening to Courtney's speech peter out. _Why do we both have to be miserable on our own, when we can be so happy together?_

xoxoxo

In retrospect, _Mamma Mia!_ hadn't been the best choice of musical to see with someone who just went through a rather traumatic breakup, but at the same time, it was something light-hearted and fluffy that would hopefully get Dave's mind off of his failed love-life and give him hope. It was the seating arrangement at the theatre that had Kurt miffed. Courtney had sat between Dave and Kurt, effectively ruining any chance Kurt had to get close to Dave. _Why the hell does she __**always**__ have to butt it?_

But there was still hope for Kurt and Dave after the theatre when they all went out drinking. Not surprisingly, having grown up across the street from Gabe and Joseph, Courtney preferred hard alcohol like Jager and Jim Bean. Very surprisingly, she had never learned to _hold_ said alcohol. So it wasn't long before she was too out of it to be any trouble.

Courtney was passed out in the booth next to Kurt, while Dave sat across from him. "You and I really keep getting the short end of the stick, you know that?" Dave was tilting his Sam Adams back and forth, making a little whirlpool in the center of the glass. "You get shit on by me all through high school. Then that shit with Tony. Then let's not forget all our glorious failed relationships: Bland, Michael, Hank, Corey, asshole, each other. If I weren't Jewish I'd join a fuckin' monastery."

Dave was definitely more than a bit tispy and Kurt wasn't entirely looking forward to the taste of beer on Dave's lips, but then again, he doubted the first few kisses of their rekindled relationship would be full-on Frenching. Kurt shrugged and stared half-heartedly at his raspberry kamikaze. "I dunno, I wouldn't consider _us_ a failure."

Dave snorted. "Oh, yeah, a one-sided, loveless relationship. That was fuckin' phenomenal." Kurt could feel his heart sinking. "I was on goddamn eggshells the entire time we were together. Terrified of pissing you off, scaring you away, you realizing you could do _so_ much better."

Kurt was trying not to cry. This was like Finn's little "faggy" rant all over again; he could feel his heart slowly ripping in two. "What if things had been different between us?"

"Oh, you mean what if you had actually given a shit about us?" He said it with such malice in his voice; Kurt hadn't heard him sound that hateful since before he left McKinley for Dalton. Kurt stood up and tossed his drink in Dave's face, before going off to the bathroom. He tried to keep his dignity but ended up bawling his eyes out halfway there.

Dave barely even flinched when Kurt essentially slushied him. It was the reaction he had been going for…well, maybe not exactly, but he wanted Kurt to be pissed at him. Dave knew Kurt was trying to get back together with him, he knew him well enough to know that. But he was completely misreading Kurt's intentions. He knew Kurt hadn't been with anyone since Michael left and now his devoted little puppy dog happened to be back on the market. _Fuck that shit; I will not be a goddamn consolation prize, again. Nor am I gonna be anyone's pity boyfriend._

_xoxoxo_

Kurt woke up the next morning in excruciating pain. He wasn't certain if the migraine was from his hangover or if it was from crying too much last night. He rolled over in bed, not entirely certain how he had gotten home. A V8 splash was on his nightstand, no doubt a gift from Court. She swore the stuff was a godsend when it came to hangovers and Kurt couldn't much disagree. He downed the entire bottle before noticing the post-it note that had been acting as a coaster.

_Dave told me what happened last night. Told you not to try and start anything. He's a wounded animal right now, did you really expect any different from him?_

_-Courtney_

Kurt balled up the post-it note and hurled it across the room before going back to sleep.

**xoxoxo**

**It's always darkest before the dawn…**


	42. Beach Boys

Spring break – Sophomore year

Kurt was feeling like Mrs. Pillsbury-Howell, before she tacked on the 'Howell'; absolutely paranoid about touching anything. Dave's apartment was the most disgusting place Kurt had been in a good, long time. It was the Thursday before spring break and Kurt and Courtney had driven out to Dave's apartment for the first time. After Dave's only Friday class the following morning, they would immediately be hitting the road to get to University Park Airport. From there, they'd be headed to the Bahamas.

"So, where's my cousin?" Dave was sitting in an armchair covered in, what appeared to be, mostly t-shirts.

Kurt pointed his thumb over his shoulder towards the door of the apartment. "She headed off to find a CVS or something so she could pick up cereal for the morning. You _knew_ you were having company over, right?"

Dave threw a lever on the side of the chair causing the front of the chair to pop up as a leg-rest and the back of it to recline, which in turn caused half of the clothes to fall off. "First of all, I have _plenty_ of cereal. Second of all, of course I knew you guys were coming over, we've been planning this for two months, why?" Kurt gestured to various piles of, for lack of a better word, _stuff_. "Oh, please. Courtney's family and you've definitely seen worse than a few pairs of my boxers."

Kurt held up one of the aforementioned pairs of boxers. "You couldn't even have straightened up a _little_?"

Dave shrugged, "The place is clean, it's not like any of that stuff is dirty or anything."

Kurt put the underwear back into its place on the couch. "If it isn't dirty, why haven't you put it away?"

David rolled his eyes. "Look, _mom_, I haven't had a whole lot of time to do any straightening or organizing. College is riding my ass enough as it is, I don't need you to as well. You have no idea how lucky I have been with my game schedule. I'm not pushing my luck anymore than necessary by cleaning when I could be studying for tests and doing homework."

Kurt was the one to roll his eyes this time and began picking up Dave's non-underwear articles of clothing and placing them over his arm. "I swear Dave, I really have issues believing you're gay sometimes." Dave lifted his head to look at Kurt, his lips quirked in a lopsided smile. "I mean, think about it, you hate shopping, you're afraid of sex, you can't dress for the life of you, you have no desire to look nice or live nicely."

Dave smiled and he made something of a pouty face. "I'm a manly-man."

"Uh-huh, you keep telling yourself that." Kurt grabbed up what were either the world's ugliest pants or a pair of horribly uncomfortable pajama bottoms. "For the love of all you hold holy-"

"Hockey, cock, and the Talmud…in that order."

"Screw it! I'll just clean the damn place, myself!"

Dave leaned forward in the chair causing it to straighten into normal armchair mode. Pushing himself out of the chair, he followed Kurt towards his bedroom with the pile of clothing. "Are you _really_ going to clean my apartment?"

Kurt came to a stop at Dave's bedroom door and practically dropped the clothes. "Where is your bed?" Dave gestured to a pile of blankets, clothes and pillows on the floor. "That is _not_ a bed. That is a mattress covered in crap and, oh my god, it doesn't even have a fitted sheet."

Dave leaned against the doorframe, not sure whether or not to be annoyed by Kurt's appraisal of his lifestyle. "You're kind of lucky I even _have_ a mattress. I'm more than happy to just sleep in a nest on the floor." Kurt just shook his head and began nudging the fabrics on the floor into appropriate piles with his foot before placing his bundle from the living room onto the mattress. He got down on his knees and began sorting things by what they were; towels, t-shirts, sweaters, hockey pads, jeans, trousers, etc.

Things had been fairly tense between them for the first few weeks after his and Tyson's breakup. Kurt couldn't help feeling a mild ping of hurt every time he spoke to Dave since then, but he ignored it. As angry as he had been with Dave, he truly did love him and want him back. Courtney had been right though; Dave was not in the best place emotionally when Kurt had tried making his move. Coupled with the alcohol, Kurt really shouldn't have been surprised Dave went back to being a Neanderthal. "Honestly Dave, I think we should just cancel the trip and get your life in order."

"Great! That means no plane."

"I was joking, Dave." Dave began walking around his room and gathering up any clothes that weren't where they belonged, which was essentially all of them. He sat on the floor next to Kurt and began helping him sort and fold clothes. Kurt wanted to talk to Dave about what he had said when they went out drinking, but was still getting up the nerve to say anything when he could hear the front door open.

"Oh, my god, David! Your apartment looks like shit!"

Dave heaved out a beleaguered sigh, "'Hello' to you too, Court."

xoxoxo

Kurt was going to kill Courtney. When she had purchased the plane tickets she had arranged for herself to be sitting at the back of the plane, and Kurt and Dave to be sitting together just behind the wing. Not only that, but when security had been going through Courtney's bag, they had unearthed a giant foam finger. Kurt had gotten the reference it was making and paled. Dave, thankfully, didn't even ask. Did Courtney really think Kurt putting the moves on Dave, who looked like he was dying already, just before they got to the Bahamas, was a good idea? This had all the makings of ruining a perfect vacation.

Dave was sitting ramrod straight in his chair, his fingers digging into the metal armrests. He looked so pitiful. "We haven't even taken off yet, Dave. Are you going to be okay? Did you take your anxiety medication?"

Dave shook his head slowly. "No, they took my water away."

Kurt waved down a passing stewardess. "Can he get some water or something? He needs to take his medication."

"Thank you, Kurt."

Kurt patted Dave's hand. "No problem. The last thing we need is you running up and down the aisle screaming about there being something on the wing." Dave tried to laugh, but it came out as a whimper. "Wow, you really don't like flying, do you?" Dave shook his head, weakly.

When the stewardess handed Dave his water, he thanked her before tossing back the pills and chugging the water. Kurt really hoped the pills were quick acting, because if this is how panicked Dave was just _sitting_ in a plane, he didn't even want to think about how he'd be feeling once the plane actually took off. "Why don't you try to fall asleep or something?"

Dave shook his head, again. "There's no way I'll be able to sleep on a plane. Why don't you try distracting me?"

Dave didn't say it in any kind of lewd way, but it still reminded Kurt of high school Dave. "What do you want me to do, a strip show?"

Dave smiled in earnestly and let out a short laugh. "I meant, like, sing to me or something?"

Kurt looked around at the other people on the plane. "I'm not singing on a crowded plane. How about we just talk, okay?" Dave shrugged. "I want to talk to you about what you said before…about _us_."

Dave let out a moan and sunk down in his seat. He turned his back to Kurt and curled up into the fetal position. "I'm gonna try that sleep thing."

Kurt poked Dave in the back. "Please, Dave. Be serious. Did you really feel that horrible dating me?"

Dave shrugged and turned back around in his seat to face Kurt, still in the fetal position. "I dunno. I was drunk. What'd I say?"

"That you were on eggshells the entire time and that I scared you."

Dave was staring at the silk screening on Kurt's shirt, trying to figure out what the design was supposed to be while he thought of the best way to phrase his response. "Kind of…I mean, I dunno. I _was_ really happy with you, but you always seemed so…disappointed with me." His voice went up at the end of 'disappointed,' as though he were questioning whether or not it was the right word.

"Elaborate…_please_."

Dave didn't respond for a few moments. "I dunno; can we just forget I said anything please?"

"No, Dave! We cannot keep doing this. We're supposed to be best friends, but you don't even feel comfortable telling me why you were upset."

"Fine, I lied. I was so happy with you. It killed me to break up with you."

Kurt scrunched himself down in his seat so he could look Dave in the eye. "Why did you lie?"

Dave shrugged and averted Kurt's eyes. "I was drunk. I was pissed: at you, at Tyson, at myself."

Kurt stroked his hand over Dave's hat; he sounded so little, like a small child trying to explain why the felt the need to push his sibling or something. "I get why you were pissed at Tyson, but why were you pissed at me? And yourself?"

Dave took Kurt's free hand and held it between both of his. "I was pissed at you because you were being so _infuriating_. Once I told you I was afraid of sex, you seemed so excited; I thought, maybe, you wanted to get together with me just so you could _have_ a boyfriend. Either that or you missed having a guy that worshipped the ground you walked on. I was pissed at myself, because…I thought _I_ had done something wrong. Every time I like someone, either they can't stand me or they just pity me. I fuck up every relationship I've ever come across. I figure there's only so many times it can be 'the other person' before I realize _I'm_ the problem."

Kurt took Dave's hat off and pressed his forehead to Dave's. "Dave, look at me." Dave looked up at Kurt and licked his lips real quickly before looking away again. "You and I were not a 'fucked up' relationship."

"No, but you only dated me because you felt bad for me and it was convenient."

Kurt began shaking his head as soon as Dave started talking. "No, Dave. I was an idiot-"

"Oh, great. You dated me because you were an idiot."

Kurt put his hand under Dave's chin and forced him to look up. "No. I was an idiot for letting you go. When you broke up with me, I should have fought you kicking and screaming instead of hiding in my room kicking and screaming. It took me way too long to realize it, and even longer to admit it, but…I _love_ you." Dave's eyes went wide and his lips began parting, as his mouth got ready to say words his brain hadn't come up with yet, but Kurt cut him off. "I don't know when it started, but by the time you broke up with me, I was completely head over heals. I barely even noticed it, but I didn't even think of the future in terms of what _I'd_ be doing, but of what _we'd_ be doing."

"I fucked up again, didn't I?"

Kurt smiled, "What do you mean?"

Dave nuzzled the top of his head under Kurt's chin. "After that shit I pulled there's no way you'd ever take me back, is there?"

Kurt pulled Dave's head back and kissed his cheek. "If you'd stop interrupting me and actually _listen_ to what I'm saying, you'd realize I'm asking _you_ to take _me_ back." Dave turned his head to meet Kurt's and kissed him softly on the lips. It was the best kiss Dave could ever remember having.

xoxoxo

Courtney was starting to feel a little left out. Not that she wasn't happy Kurt and Dave were back together, it was just getting slightly infuriating that Dave and Kurt only had eyes for each other. They were supposed to be here having fun, but Kurt and Dave really hadn't spent a whole of the their vacation doing anything but makeout. Courtney went out the back door of the hotel room and down the stairs leading to the beach. Dave and Kurt were fast asleep in each other's arms in the sand. They looked so cute and content together. _Oh, well_. Courtney dumped a glass of water on the two. Dave shot bolt upright, dumping Kurt off his chest. "Come on you two, you're supposed to be packing your bags. We leave first thing in the morning."

Dave moaned and lay back down, pulling Kurt back on top of him. Kurt sat up, straddling Dave's lap. "She's right. Come on." Kurt stood up and held his hand down to Dave to help him get up.

Dave took Kurt's hand and gave it swift yank, pulling him right back down. "Dun wanna."

Kurt placed a few kisses around Dave's mouth. "Come on, big boy. It's not like this is the end. We have all the time in the world now."

**xoxoxo**

**Don't worry, this isn't the end.**

**A few quick notes:**

**1) YAY Super Glee Sunday (honestly, do **_**ANY**_** of us care about the football game at this point?)**

**2) YAY for Blaine not having an interest in Kurt ("When I Get You Alone" preview)!**

**3) YAY for two episodes in one week!**

**4) To anon with the comment about Russian and American; I was referring to the countries of production, not the languages. Though, as an American who watches almost exclusively British TV, I can assure you, English and Americans do NOT speak the same language, so we really should start distinguishing the two (in fact, many universities are beginning to: referring to American English as, wait for it… **_**American English**_** or simply **_**American**_**.) **

**5) Conversation between me and my mom the other day:**

**My computer screen is scrolling through my ample pictures of Max Adler as my wallpaper.**

**Me: I could stare at him all day.**

**Mom: I've seen you; you do.**

**Me. Touché**

**5) A recent article confirms that Max Adler is Jewish; who called it, huh? Boo-yeah, baby. Gotta love them temple boys.**


	43. Leaving You, Loving You

**Sorry about the unexpected hiatus. Depression is a bitch…**

**xoxoxo**

Junior year – Spring semester

Dave was the world's hottest teddy bear. Kurt wouldn't deny it and, try as he might, Dave _couldn't_ deny it. He tried to keep up the bad boy persona sometimes, in order to instill fear on the ice, but Kurt just always brought out the big loveable teddy in him.

Even still, Kurt was fairly certain that if Dave were an animal, he would be a snake. Not in a bad way: not in the least. True, in high school, before everything had happened, Dave would often lash out like a pit viper, but no. That wasn't what made Kurt think of Dave as a snake.

First, there was the tongue; the way it darted in and out of his mouth, flicking over his bottom lip anytime he got nervous. It was really cute and endearing, albeit slightly reptilian. Then there was the fact that anytime they slept together, Kurt wound up in, what he thought might be known as a sleeper hold, but referred to in his own mind as Dave's boa constrictor hug. Once upon a time, Kurt thought it was because of Dave's insecurity about everything that had happened, but according to Joan, even when he was a little, itty-bitty Davey and had slept with her and Paul, he would inevitably wind up choking the life out of one of them with his fierce hugs. Thirdly, there was Dave's trouser snake; honestly, that was the only way to describe that beast in Dave's pants. It even rose up whenever Kurt sang; like a snake charmer with a cobra.

Right then though, all Kurt could think was that Dave _had_ to be at least part snake. There was no way he could get his mouth open that wide without unhinging his jaws like a snake. But apparently he could, because he managed to get both of Kurt's testicles in his mouth without even grazing his teeth over the sensitive flesh.

They'd been back together for a year and everything was truly blissful. Of course they fought, like any normal couple ("It's _my_ apartment, I'll clean it when I want." or "You just don't appreciate how much work goes into being a theatre _and_ music major!"). But other than that, everything was good. Except the sex. That was still non-existent, but Kurt was fine with that. He had been able to talk Dave into letting him give him head sometime during the Thanksgiving break, and Dave, grudgingly wanting to return the favor, discovered he was really and truly a cock whore. He absolutely loved sucking Kurt off. It was one of the single greatest rushes ever.

The one hockey buddy he was close enough to discuss his love life with had been astounded that Dave would be willing to do something so…_submissive. _That? That wasn't submissive in the _least_. Dave, on his knees, was the ultimate master. He had complete control over _everything_. He could get Kurt to make any noise he wanted to: grunts, moans, sighs, whimpers: all by working his tongue a different way. And like any good video gamer, he quickly discovered all the right combos to get any result he wanted. He could even control how long it took Kurt to cum: something that annoyed Kurt to no end.

"Oh, _god_! Ugh…I can't take it anymore. Oh…ba….baby, please! Lemme..._ugh!"_

Dave sucked sharply on Kurt's testicles as he withdrew them from his mouth. God he loved seeing Kurt like this. Dave may have been master on his knees, but Kurt was the bossy bitch in their relationship at every other moment. Why shouldn't Dave enjoy a good turn-around? "You come to _my_ apartment, unannounced, let yourself right in and climb into bed with me while I'm sleeping and really expect me to just let you get away with that?" Dave tugged lightly on the skin connecting Kurt's ball sack to the base of his penis with his teeth, inflaming Kurt into a deep-throated moan. "You were _so_ desperate for some of this that you drove _three hours_ to get some?"

Kurt entwined his fingers in Dave's lovely, short curls and tried coaxing his head closer, back towards his nether regions, but Dave resisted. Kurt let out a sad little whimper, something he had picked up from Dave over the years. "I needed to be with you. Needed, _mmmm_…to talk to you."

Dave had begun licking the length of Kurt's shaft while he was explaining himself. "So? If I can talk with my mouth full…" he sucked Kurt's cock into his mouth, bobbed his head down so his lips were wrapped around the base before coming back up again. "…then _you_ can certainly talk."

Dave could fee Kurt's nails digging into his scalp. "Ugh…I can barely _breathe _you have me so….Ah!...worked up." Dave had Kurt's head in his mouth and was running his tongue all over it while his hands massaged the rest of Kurt's cock.

Dave went down deep on Kurt a few more times, picking his pace up significantly. As amusing as he found this sexual torturing of Kurt, it was just as torturous for himself. He desperately wanted to taste Kurt. He was ashamed to admit it even to himself, much like his feelings for Kurt had been in high school, but swallowing all Kurt had to offer made him feel like Kurt was _part_ of him; after all, you are what you eat. For Dave, it made their separations easier to bear.

Dave gave Kurt a few minutes to collect himself after he was done cumming. Kurt lay flat out on Dave's bad; Dave was on the floor beside the bed, his head resting on the mattress next to Kurt as he stared adoringly at his boyfriend and rubbed lazy circles on Kurt's stomach. Kurt looked over at him and smiled, taking his hand, he gave it a tug, encouraging Dave to join him on the bed. Dave smiled and crawled next to him, pulling his love into his arms. "So, what the hell warranted a surprise visit?"

Kurt sat up and got onto all fours, straddling Dave to look him in the eye. "Promise not to be mad?"

Dave raised an eyebrow and looked incredulously at Kurt. "Give me his name and address and I promise I won't kill _both_ of you."

Kurt smacked Dave lightly on the arm. "I am _not_ having an affair! How the hell could you even think that?"

Dave craned his neck up to kiss Kurt softly on the lips. "I was kidding. What could _you_ possibly do to make me mad?"

Kurt sat back, resting his weight on Dave's lap. He chewed nervously on the inside of his cheek while he thought about how to word what he wanted to say. He had memorized his speech on the car ride, but none of it seemed correct, now. "I…um…I'm dropping out of school. At the end of this year."

Dave sat upright, nearly forcing Kurt out of his lap. "What? What the hell are you thinking? You can't just throw away three years of school like that!"

Kurt put his hands on Dave's shoulders to steady him (and to keep him at a distance in case Dave lost his temper; even though Dave hadn't hit him since his junior year of high school, part of him still remembered that he had the _capability_ of doing something like that). "Dave please, you have to understand. I got an amazing opportunity to join an _actual show_. A national tour. The director saw my performances in _Zombies from the Beyond_, _Sylvia_, and _The Crucible_. He was incredibly impressed with my range and my talents. Once he figured out I could dance _as well_ as sing and act, he said he had to have me."

Dave was shaking his head. "If you're this amazing _now_, imagine how amazing you'll be once you complete your education?"

Kurt wrapped his arms around Dave's neck and rubbed their cheeks together. "It isn't as easy for me as it is for you." Dave was about to interject when Kurt stopped him. "Finding a job as a physical therapist will be easy for you. And even if it weren't, you'd still be happy and perfectly capable of being an EMT…or even a nurse with a few different classes. For me, though, there aren't a whole lot of options. It is _so_ hard to get a regularly paying job in theatre or music. But this, _this_ is what I want to do."

Dave was staring at the floor, afraid to meet Kurt's eyes. "What about us? If it's a national tour, you'll be all over the place and I'd never get to see you." Slowly, he raised his head to look at Kurt, silently praying his look conveyed the absolute terror and sadness he felt at this moment. "You aren't leaving me, are you?"

Kurt fervently, almost violently, shook his head back and forth. "No! Absolutely not. Not after what it took to get you back last time. It'll be hard Dave…it always is for us. But it'll work. I promise you. We won't be able to visit each other as often, but-" Kurt's lip quirked into a half-smile. "-on the bright side, since I won't be at school next year, I won't be living in New York. So…whenever I've got a break, I'll need someplace to stay." Kurt wiggled his eyebrows. "Like a certain amazing boyfriend's little love nest?" Dave thought about it for a few minutes; to Kurt, he looked far from convinced. "Dave?"

"I'm just thinking…" Kurt gave him a look that implored him, begged him, to speak his mind. "…where the _hell_ will we fit all your clothes?" Dave's pokerface cracked into a wide smile and Kurt couldn't help but laugh. He pulled him closer and smashed their lips together. "My boy-toy's gonna be a star…wow." Dave reclined back on the bed, pulling Kurt with him so that Kurt was lying on top of Dave's chest. Kurt began running his fingers through Dave's chest hair, smiling happily to himself. It _would_ be difficult, but they could do it. If _anyone_ could do it, it was them. Besides, military families did it all the time; except Kurt and Dave would be able to fly out and meet each other occasionally, they could call or Skype anytime they wanted. He was just going on a musical tour of the country, not across the world and certainly not to war. "So…what's the part?"

"Hmmm? Oh, mostly I'll just be a background character, but I will be understudying for one of the lesser characters: Fyedka, in _Fiddler on the Roof_." Kurt, his fingers still wrapped in Dave's chest fur, was pulling absentmindedly at the hair there. Dave didn't mind, he never did.

Dave let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank _god_."

Kurt chuckled softly, "What?"

"Something I can actually sit through and enjoy. I'm sorry, but if you were in, like, _Evita_ or _Billy Elliot_, I might have to off myself."

"Oh puh-_lease._ I could be in the _Vagina Monologues_ and you'd still enjoy it, just because _I'm_ in it."

Dave shook his head back and forth, his bottom lip sticking out in a stubborn little pout. "Uh-uh. Vajay-jays are scary."

Kurt threw his head back and let out a loud laugh followed by a snort. "How the hell do _you_ know what a vajay-jay looks like?"

"Uh, anatomy classes, _duh_. Those things have teeth you know…"

Kurt rested his elbows on the bed over Dave's shoulders, and then cradled his head in his interlocked fingers so that he had to look down to look at Dave. "I swear; I am dating the world's biggest -and _cutest-_ two year old."

Dave pulled Kurt down and forced him into another kiss. When Kurt pulled back a few minutes later, Dave let out a breathless, "Yep."

Kurt rolled off of Dave and began running his fingers languidly up and down Dave's torso, occasionally plucking at the hair along Dave's 'happy trail.' "You know what? _I_ don't have teeth down there."

"I know." Dave smiled, before slinking down the bed until his lips were level with his favorite chew toy in the world…

xoxoxo

Even though it meant Dave missing class, Dave and Kurt stayed in bed together late into the morning, trying to work out all the details of living together (at least part of the time, anyway). They would definitely have to replace some of the furniture, give Dave's closet a major overhaul, fix some of the cabinetry, scrub and disinfect the fridge ("Why the hell do we have to do that?" "Because your fridge smells like a decade's worth of old Chinese food…"). Kurt was playing the part of secretary, writing down everything that they needed to remember. Dave just lay on his side, listening to Kurt and agreeing with everything (mostly) that he said.

"Have you told anyone else yet? About touring, I mean."

Kurt shook his head and brushed his bangs out of his eyes. "No. I thought you should know first."

Dave smiled. _Sweet…my approval is more important than his family's now…and we're moving in together. This is almost like we're…_ Dave cut himself off from that thought. They had only been dating a year. Way too soon to think about things like that. "You should tell Rachel first. I think she's the only one who would really get how major this is for you."

"I don't know. I don't want to rub it in her face or anything, especially now that her and Finn are getting hitched. Oh! That reminds me, we have to take you tux shopping." Kurt went back to scrawling his notes on the pad Dave had unearthed earlier that morning.

Dave smiled to himself; to Kurt, it looked like Dave was having happy thoughts about Rachel and Finn's impending wedding. _That_ wasn't the particular wedding Dave was envisioning though.

**xoxoxo**

**Dear "um" (unregistered reviewer), that aspect of Dave's personality I created based on the fact that Paul claims Dave was an A/B student, yet Dave claims to not know how to spell "loser" or what a "rendering plant" is, which leads me to believe he's a closeted intellectual, as well. It wasn't my intent to make him look "perfect," but rather show that, like everyone else on Earth, he has sides to him you wouldn't predict.**

**And for those of you who keep asking about the scar, don't worry, its status will be playing a sizeable roll in an upcoming chapter. I just don't harp on how it's doing because, after awhile, most people stop noticing their scars and blemishes. The only time I ever notice my scars now a days is when they itch. (is it normal for a scar to itch regularly seventeen years after you got it?)**


	44. What's in a Name?

**I really DO NOT recommend the drug combo Dave mentions. Knocked me flat on my ass for an entire day…**

xoxoxo

Fall – Senior year

Two Musinex, two Tylenol PM: greatest invention ever. Dave had discovered it by accident one day while trying to take care of both a headache and a nasty cold and quickly realized it mellowed him out a hell of a lot quicker than his anti-anxiety meds and lasted a lot longer…a _lot_ longer. He wasn't an idiot though; he only took it when absolutely necessary. Today it had been absolutely necessary. Sometime around 6 in the morning, Dave had gotten a text from Kurt telling him that he was _finally_ going to get to play Fyedka, instead of some random background character. Despite being two states away, Dave couldn't -_wouldn't –_ miss it for the world. Three and a half hours later, Dave was on a plane, nicely drugged up and finally getting to see his boo performing something _moderately_ close to being worthy of him.

The role didn't call for Kurt to do any singing, but he did get a fairly nice dance bit in the "To Life" number. At the end of the performance, when all the actors came out on stage to bow, Dave was on his feet hooting, hollering, and generally making an ass of himself when Kurt took his bow. It didn't matter though, that was _his_ Kurt up there.

Not long after, Kurt was backstage, changing into some lounge clothes to hang out in until the evening's performance. The matinee had gone by beautifully. Kurt had expected to be terrified his first time with some actual dialogue on a real stage, but the nerves completely passed him by. He shouldn't have been surprised at all though; fish didn't get nervous their first time swimming, did they? This was Kurt's fate: the life he was _meant_ to live.

They were at a smaller theatre: no changing "rooms." Each actor had a large, fairly private cubicle with a curtain over the door allowing costume, makeup and others to come and go fairly quickly. Kurt's cast mates had been popping in and out since the curtain first went down to congratulate him, so he wasn't surprised when he heard yet another knock on the side of his cube. What _did_ surprise him was Dave poking his head around the privacy curtain.

"Oh, my god! DAVE!" Kurt launched himself at Dave, practically ripping the curtain down as he jumped into Dave's waiting arms.

A security guard cocked his head at the two of them and turned around, muttering to himself as he left, "Well that answers _that_ question." Kurt looked at Dave questioningly.

"No one would believe I was your freakin' boyfriend. I had to agree to let a couple rent-a-cops agree to escort me back here just so I could see you." Dave could faintly hear the violins out in the pit and then other instruments slowly joining in with their discordant tuning session.

Kurt stroked Dave's stubbly chin, before rubbing his cheek against Dave's, equally gritty, own cheek. "What are you even doing here? Don't you have practice today?"

Kurt felt Dave shrug under his arms. "I have practice _every_ day. My boyfriend only has his first professional premier with a speaking role once. I was at your first college performance, I was at your first professional performance, I was at today's performance, I'll be at your first singing performance, I'll be at your first starring performance."

Kurt pulled away from Dave and shoved him lightly on the shoulder. "How cute! I have my own creeper!"

Dave smoothed out Kurt's bangs before folding his arms across his chest, "I don't think it qualifies as being a "creeper" if we're sleeping together."

Kurt pulled Dave the rest of the way into the cubicle. Dave stumbled for a step or two before collapsing into a handily located chair. Kurt snickered to himself. "You look either drunk or high."

Dave's eyes went wide and looked around suspiciously, a goofy grin on his face. "Define 'high.'"

Kurt leaned against his vanity, his hands on his hips, a judgmental pout on his face, "What did you take?"

"Happy stuff to make the plane not so…_bumpity_. Nothing illegal though."

"Uh-huh. Well it's a good thing we'll be getting into Lima two days before the wedding then, that should give you plenty of time to unwind from a plane trip."

Dave's lip curled up into a scowl. "Ah yes, the holy union of Huberry. Do I really _have_ to wear a tux?"

"Yes, and stop calling them 'Huberry.' It's 'Finchel.'"

Dave rolled his eyes. "That is the stupidest name ever."

"It has been 'Finchel' _long_ before you came into our group of friends. Same as Finn and I are 'Furt' and Puck and Lauren are 'Luck.'"

"Okay, I like 'Luck.' That's a good one. The rest suck."

Kurt shrugged, "Take it up with my brother; he's the one that comes up with them."

"Ah, yes. The blinding genius behind 'Kurtofsky.' Seriously? How the hell did he come up with _that_ when 'Karommel' was glaring him in the face?"

Kurt placed an arm around Dave and slunk down into his lap, curling his entire body into Dave's warmth. "Karommel's cute. I'll admit, that one was pretty clever, even if we were already broken up before you thought of it."

"I'm a genius."

Kurt chuckled, and Dave could distinctly feel his lover's laugh vibrating through his body. "I wouldn't go that far."

"Huh? No, I'm not talking about the names anymore. Listen to the orchestra." Kurt furrowed his brows. He heard the orchestra for _hours_ everyday…ad nauseum. "That would be awesome for the wedding." Kurt strained his ears. What the hell was his doped-up boyfriend hearing that he wasn't?

Finally it hit him… _Oh_…_He IS a genius._

xoxoxo

Around Christmas – Senior year

It was the day of the 'Finchel' Wedding. Kurt meandered through the temple, admiring the job the decorator had done. Rachel, with her winter theme, had gone with white, silver, and icicle blue. Dave was at his side, explaining some of the religious symbolism. It astounded Kurt how much he didn't know; he attended a "Jewish wedding" most days, but had really no idea what to expect of a modern, real-world one.

Lauren Zizes, one of the many wedding guests in on Dave and Kurt's wedding surprise came up to Kurt and Dave while they were admiring the intricate braid work the florist had done with vines of white clematis adorning the wedding canopy, or "chupah," as Dave called it. "Everything's all set, just have everyone clip these to their lapels, about a foot or so from their mouths." Lauren handed off a small box of microphones to Kurt. "No charge. So long as you don't do anything this stupid at my wedding."

Kurt smiled warmly at Lauren, as he turned around with the microphones and headed off towards the door leading to an administrative area of the temple. "Like _she'd_ ever get married."

Dave smacked Kurt reprimandingly on the butt. "Play nice, she helped you out big time with the sound hookup."

Kurt passed off the microphones to Dave and pulled a list out of his tux pocket. He eyed over the names of those needing microphones and did a quick mental check of where they were most likely to be. Getting to each of the participants would be easy. Getting to them without getting waylaid by Finn or Rachel, who had no idea what Kurt and Dave had orchestrated, would be another story.

xoxoxo

All the guests, minus those that were part of the wedding procession, were seated and awaiting the big moment. When Pachelbel's "Canon in D Major" began playing, a hush fell over the assembly of friends and relatives as they turned their gazes to the aisle. The rabbi was the first to emerge, making his way towards the chupah, then Finn, followed by Burt and Carol. Puck, Dave and Artie, Finn's groomsmen, followed behind them. After Finn's entourage, Rachel's emerged, first her bridesmaids (Mercedes, Kurt, and Angelica, a girlfriend from college), then the sweetest little flower girl and ring bearer. Finally, Rachel herself emerged, her fathers, Leroy and Hiram, a few steps behind.

Rachel was stunningly gorgeous. She had gone with a long Simone Carlvalli, silk taffeta dress, with a sweetheart neckline, and a silver beaded brocade that wrapped around her back, under her breasts where it hugged and silhouetted them before crossing in front and coming back around to meet behind her neck. A silk organza veil draped elegantly down her back, attached to a simple, thin, silver tiara crowning her head.

She was so beautiful Kurt didn't think he'd be able to keep himself from crying long enough for the show to continue.

Just as Rachel came upon her fiancé and the canopy, the music slowly faded out. The parents took seats in the front pews, while the groomsmen, bridesmaids, flower girl and ring bearer fanned out on either side of the happy couple. Then, Lauren tapped into the sound system switching out the music for Kurt and David's surprise.

Rachel's eyes went wide in a bit of mild panic as she realized her wedding wasn't going _exactly_ as she planned. But instantly calmed when she heard her father, Leroy's deep tenor voice…

_Is this the little girl I carried?_

_Is this the little boy at play?_

Carol:

_I don't remember growing older_

_When did they?_

Puck:

_When did she get to be a beauty?_

_When did he grow to be so tall?_

Quinn:

_Wasn't it yesterday,_

_When they were small?_

The men joined their voices for the next part:

_Sunrise, sunset_

_Sunrise, sunset_

_Swiftly flow the days_

_Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers_

_Blossoming even as we gaze_

Then the women came together for the second half of the chorus

_Sunrise, sunset_

_Sunrise, sunset_

_Swiftly fly the years_

_One season following another_

_Laden with happiness and tears_

Mr. Schuester:

_What words of wisdom can I give them?_

_How can I help to ease their way?_

Shelby:

_Now they must learn from one another_

_Day by day_

David:

_They look so natural together_

Kurt:

_Just like two newlyweds should be_

Kurt and David's eyes met for a moment as they sang the next line together, but Dave blushed and looked away while they continued

_Is there a canopy in store for me?_

Everyone in the temple who knew the lyrics sang along as the chorus repeated and then died down.

_Sunrise, sunset_

_Sunrise, sunset_

_Swiftly flow the days_

_Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers_

_Blossoming even as we gaze_

_Sunrise, sunset_

_Sunrise, sunset_

_Swiftly fly the years_

_One season following another_

_Laden with happiness and tears_

As a hush once again fell over the wedding guests, all that could be heard was Rachel's delicate sniffles.

xoxoxo

Kurt was seated at the head table with the rest of the newlyweds' entourages. Although, by now, most were out on the dance floor "getting their groove on" as Artie had so originally put it. Kurt swirled his wine around in his glass, watching Dave out on the floor as he assisted Puck and two other guys in the center of the Hora dance with a chair. Kurt didn't recognize the woman currently hoisted up in the air, so he assumed it was one of Rachel's college friends.

Rachel, flushed from dancing (and likely, drinking) sat down next to Kurt and wrapped her arms around him. "Quinn said the whole thing was _your_ idea."

Kurt waved the statement off lazily. "It was Dave's idea actually. I just did all the work."

Rachel squeezed her arms around him tighter and planted a peck on his cheek. "It was still super sweet. You guys are so perfect for each other. So…_is_ there a canopy in store for you two?" Kurt blushed and looked down into his half empty glass of French Bordeaux. "I mean…seriously. You've been together since your junior year of high school..."

"Minus a year and a half."

"Please, no one counts that. You are madly, disgustingly in love. And…I know neither Ohio nor Pennsylvania allow same-sex marriages yet, but you could always have a ceremony or something."

Kurt shrugged out of Rachel's hug. "As much as I'd love to marry Dave, he hasn't really expressed any interest in taking our relationship so much as past third base, so to speak."

Rachel made an exaggerated pouty face. _Yep, definitely tipsy_. Kurt thought. "You two seriously aren't…you know. I mean…even Finn and I have… _often. _Despite my initial reluctance." That knowledge kind of pissed Kurt off. Rachel and Finn were…_active_? But she was the ice queen and prude when it came to stuff like that. Dave on the other hand was a complete horn-dog. How the hell had Kurt gotten shafted like that? Or rather _not_ gotten shafted. What…the…fuck?

Kurt looked up from his wine to spot Dave out on the dance floor, now joined with most of the other guests in the ring of the Hora, running sideways in circles like a crazy person. A handsome, sweet, gorgeous, funny, beautiful, smart, crazy person.

Kurt downed the rest of his wine and thunked the glass down authoritatively as he stood up from his seat. He began marching his way around the table before quickly ducking back to his seat, downing Dave's glass of wine and returning on his trek to the dance floor.

Once he was able to find Dave in the throng of dancers he grabbed him by the forearm and pulled him out of the circle. His vacant spot was quickly squeezed closed by the two he had been dancing between as Kurt dragged him off the dance floor.

Kurt pulled him out into the hall and into a nearby, convenient closet. Pulling the ripcord that turned on the overhead light in the closet, he shoved Dave against the back wall between a mop and some push brooms. Kurt began fumbling with the buttons of Dave's dress shirt while Dave began running his fingers through Kurt's hair. Dave burrowed his nose in Kurt's neck and began kissing the soft pink flesh there. "What the hell are you doing, Hummel?"

Kurt had finally managed to get enough buttons undone that he could pull Dave's shirt open and get a lovely view of Dave's expansive chest. "You, me, sex: _now_."

Dave pushed Kurt off of him. As Kurt made another grab for Dave's shirt, Dave grabbed his wrists and held him still. "Now? You want our first time to be in a damn closet? I think I've spent enough time in closets."

Kurt tried wrenching his hands away from Dave's grasp. "I _don't_ care! I love you, I want you, I _need_ you. Right here, right now."

Dave looked around, his eyes large and frightened. "Kurt! Seriously, calm down. We _will_ have sex. We will have _lots_ of sex. I will make sure you can't ever walk straight again, we'll have so much sex, if that's what you want. But not _here_, not _now_."

Kurt relaxed under Dave's grip, so he released him, slowly. "When?"

Dave sighed. "I dunno. When we get back home, how about that?"

Kurt entangled his fingers in Dave's curls and pulled him in for a brutally rough kiss. When he pulled away, they were both panting and gasping. "You had better stick to your word, hamhock, or I swear I will jump your damn bones and impale myself on your fucking dick."

Kurt did a little diva twirl and stormed out of the closet, leaving Dave flustered, hot and bothered. Despite his mild fear of sex, he couldn't help being incredibly turned on by Kurt's lewdness. An angry, pissed-off, red faced, huffy Kurt had always been a huge turn-on for him. "Holy hell…how can I say no to _that_?"

xoxoxo

**I am sowwy (sad face)**

**I am a bad, inconsistent updater.**

**There are only a few chapters left, so it shouldn't take **_**too**_** long.**

**On a brighter note, I've been procrastinating so much on this fic because I've been brainstorming out the next one (A Kurtofsky MPREG if you're into that kinda thing).**


	45. The Birds and the Bears

**This chapter is a birthday present to myself. I'm very proud of how many double entendres are in the title (I found three…only two were intentional).**

**xoxoxo**

July of David's Senior Year

Dave's promise at the wedding had yet to be fulfilled, and Kurt was getting pretty damned annoyed. Dave, with his special "plane trip cocktail" of drugs had put him out of commission for a day and then Kurt had to return to the tour. Every time he came home, Dave was either too busy with schoolwork ("I graduate in a few months, everything will be all set then") or too sore from hockey.

After the NCAA hockey season ended, Kurt was positive he was going to start getting some, but Dave seemed to slip into a funk. It had gotten really bad after Dave's graduation. Kurt began noticing Dave's hockey memorabilia disappearing from around the apartment. First Dave tossed his old ratty Red Wings hat and gotten a new Dallas Cowboys one instead; Dave barely even _liked_ professional football. Then his Red Wings pillow had disappeared, then a throw blanket, then his hockey posters. It got to the point were Kurt felt the need to hide his own Red Wings jersey. Kurt understood that Dave was obviously depressed; he had graduated, which meant no more hockey and having to get a real job. But still, this depression was a bit much even for Dave.

The last month or so was particularly killer. Dave randomly disappeared for days on end and Kurt just _knew_ he was abusing his plane trip drugs. Every time he reappeared from one of his disappearances he would be completely doped up on the stuff. Kurt felt like their relationship was falling apart and was terrified of losing his Davey, again.

Kurt wasn't really thinking about any of that at the moment though. He was home for a few days from touring, David was in a phenomenal mood and Kurt was pretty certain he was even job hunting. Kurt was in the kitchen, chopping up lettuce for a light salad for lunch. He could hear David padding almost noiselessly across the linoleum floor towards him. When he felt two hands grasp him firmly on the hips and Dave rest his chin on Kurt's shoulder, Kurt pushed back against him, allowing their bodies to mold together. Kurt smiled to himself as Dave's hands began rubbing around Kurt's hips, thighs, and then butt. _Where the hell is __**this**__ Dave coming from? Is my old Davey back, finally?_

"Do you remember when we were in the hospital together?"

Kurt furrowed his brow and looked over his shoulder at Dave. "No, I've completely blocked it from my memory." He said, dripping with sarcasm.

"Do you remember what you said when I said 'I'd pay to tap this?'" Kurt's lover emphasized the "this" with a firm squeeze of Kurt's butt cheeks.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "No, but I probably told you to go fuck yourself. Now, I _can't even_ pay to get you to tap this."

Dave laid little kisses along Kurt's neck. "Come on, I know you memorize every fight we've ever had."

Kurt chuckled; he _did_ have a rather amazing memory when they were arguing. "Only since we started dating."

One of Dave's hands traveled to Kurt's stomach and made it's way under his shirt, caressing the smooth, delicate skin. "I'll give you a hint: we thought I'd be more or less crippled the rest of my life, I'd never play sports again and you were being cruel and spiteful."

Kurt put the knife and lettuce aside while he thought about it for a minute. _What __**would**__ I have said in a situation like that?_ "I think I said something along the lines of 'you'd be more likely to get drafted by the Red Wings.'" Given Dave's recent attitude, Kurt wasn't certain mentioning the hockey team was an excellent idea, but Dave was the one who brought it up.

Dave pulled away from Kurt, leaving his hands near his hips. Kurt turned around and savored feeling Dave's hands slide across his skin. "That is _not_ what you said. You did not say _Red Wings_, you said _NHL_."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "What difference does it make? It was five years ago and I'm _still_ not getting laid."

Kurt could see Dave's tongue sliding around inside his mouth and couldn't stop thinking about how much he wanted that tongue, in every way shape and form. "It makes a _big_ difference. If you had specified a certain team then you wouldn't be getting laid _any_time soon."

Kurt cocked his head to the side, trying to figure out what exactly Dave was implying. "Dave, what are you saying?" Dave smiled broadly at Kurt and Kurt's eyes went wide. "Have you been drafted? Were you picked? By _who_?"

Dave pulled Kurt close to him, squeezing him in the best hug ever. "How would you feel about moving to Boston?"

Kurt _loved_ the idea of Boston, but still did a mental run-down of different NHL teams. "Bruins? You're going to be a Bruin? That's amazing! I cannot believe it! I'm dating a _professional_ hamhock!" Kurt began placing frantic kisses over every part of Dave he could easily reach: his face, his neck, his collarbone, his chest. When the euphoria had dimmed slightly, Kurt looked back up at Dave. "Are fucking shitting me? You weren't going to have sex with me unless you got fucking drafted?"

Dave's smile broke apart into an open laugh. "No, I'd definitely still have sex with you."

"Then _why_ aren't we?"

Dave shrugged. "I know this sounds stupid, but, I don't believe in pre-marital sex." Kurt was confused again. Dave pulled away from him, a somber look on his face. Kurt leaned back against the counter as Dave reached into his back pocket. When he found what he had been looking for, Dave presented it to Kurt as he slowly lowered himself to one knee. "Kurt Hummel, will you do me the honor of becoming Kurt Karofsky?" Dave didn't even see Kurt coming at him. He was knocked backwards onto the floor before he realized his boyfriend was on top of him, straddling his waist and practically shoving his tongue down his throat. Once his shock wore off, Dave began returning Kurt's affections in earnest.

xoxoxo

Once Kurt was done sexually assaulting his boyfriend – no, _fiancé_ – they went to the bedroom and, Kurt sitting between Dave's legs, started doing a Boston realty search on Dave's laptop. "Is this why you've been so freaky, lately?"

Dave guided Kurt's hand to click on a cute two-story cape in Wellesley, but clicked the back button the moment he saw the size of the property. They wouldn't even be able to have a frickin' chihuahua with a yard that small. "My coach started getting me information about the draft back in February and it was just making me super nervous…and anxious. Then, once the season ended, I figured, if I didn't even make it to a farm team, that's it, I'm done. The best I could ever hope to do again is pick-up games at the rink."

Kurt nuzzled against Dave's neck, kissing the underside of his jaw. "You should have talked to me. I was so worried. I thought you were having an early mid-life crisis or something."

Dave shrugged. He did that a lot; it seemed to be his version of "um…". "Yeah, no. I'm fine. Awesome, in fact, now that we're getting married."

Kurt smiled and selected a different town to check out on the realty website, he wasn't seeing anything appealing in Wellesley. "They know you're gay, right?"

Dave shifted Kurt in his lap, trying to get himself a bit more comfortable. "Yeah, of course. But it's Massachusetts; they're super-liberal. If any professional hockey team was gonna pick up a queer, it'd be Boston. I mean, I had to sign a bunch of extra contracts and what not, basically promising that I wouldn't have my picture taken in any gay bars with Bruins merchandise on and so on. Other than that, they seemed pretty laid back."

"So when are we thinking for the wedding? I want a nice warm spring or summer wedding, but if we don't do it, like _now_, we'd have to wait until _next_ year, and I don't think I can wait that long to sex you up."

Kurt could feel Dave chuckling lightly even though he couldn't hear it. Dave wrapped an arm across Kurt's chest and pulled him tighter to himself. "Whenever you want babe, on both the wedding _and_ the sex."

"I thought you said 'no sex before marriage'?" Kurt tried to turn enough in Dave's arms to look him in the eye, but with their current position it was awkward.

"As far as I'm concerned, the second you said 'yes,' or rather, attacked me on the kitchen floor, you were my hubby."

"But that isn't marriage."

"To me it is. I hate how everyone makes marriage out to be a legal contract between two people and the government to cover their asses in case of a break-up and to save money on taxes. In my opinion, all a marriage is, is an agreement between two people, and their god or whatever, if they're into that kind of thing, that they'll love each other, and only each other, for the rest of their lives."

Kurt, realizing he was extremely close to getting some hardcore loving from his man-bear, began rubbing his ass seductively against Dave's crotch. The desired effect came almost instantly. "If that's the case, then I now pronounce us man and cave-man."

Dave smiled and put the laptop on the bedside table. Kurt rolled over in Dave's lap so that he was on top, between Dave's legs. David had already lost his shirt some time during the tussle on the kitchen floor and would find it the next day on top of the fridge where Kurt had thrown it. For now, though, Kurt was fully set on getting the rest of Dave's clothes off. Dave shimmied his hips a little as Kurt slid the denim down his legs. Once Dave's pants were off, Kurt stood on the bed between Dave's feet and slowly began unbuttoning his shirt. He only allowed the top few inches of it to part, revealing only the slightest amount of the pale, milky skin of his chest to show. Kurt then turned around and undid the rest of the buttons. Looking over his shoulder at David, one side of his shirt pulled down to reveal a shoulder, Kurt gave Dave his best wanton, smoldering look.

Dave, a drunken look of bliss on his face, slipped his hand into his briefs and began stroking himself. As Kurt allowed his shirt to slip off of his arms and onto the bed, David removed his underwear and threw them across the room, only half noticing that they landed on a desk lamp. Kurt's hands went to his crotch and Dave could faintly make out Kurt fondling himself, before his hands traveled north to the button of his trousers. When they were unfastened, Kurt moved his hands to his hips and slipped his thumbs under the fabric. Twirling his hips as he slid his pants down painfully slow, he looked as though he were hula-ing out of them. Dave subconsciously licked his lips and sucked the bottom one in between his teeth as Kurt revealed his gorgeous, firm butt to him. As Kurt turned back around to face his true love, he sank down to his knees and crawled back on top of him.

Dave hooked one of his legs behind Kurt's knee and lowered one hand to grope Kurt's flawless ass. He ran a single finger down Kurt's crack, allowing it to tease over the puckered flesh of his anus. Kurt's tongue was buried in Dave's mouth, one hand caressing Dave's scalp while the fingers of his other hand entangled themselves in his chest hair. _My bear is going to be a Bruin, how perfectly fitting._ As they ground their crotches together, Kurt's breathing became softer and shallower: Dave's became spastic and hitched.

Just before things got too heated, Dave pulled away from Kurt. "Don't we need, like…condoms? And lube? And stuff?" Kurt kissed Dave one last time before leaning over to the nightstand. Bending over the side of the bed, he began rifling through the bottom drawer. Kurt was the only one who put anything in the nightstand because he was the only one who felt the need to put things into boxes, then into another box, then into a container, then into a drawer. Dave had made the mistake once of putting an ESPN magazine in there and got bitched at by Kurt for putting things where they didn't belong. That was the last time Dave went through any drawers in the bedroom that weren't his sock and underwear drawers. Apparently he should have been paying attention to what Kurt was keeping in those things more closely because Kurt came back up with an industrial strength tube of KY warming jelly. Dave raised an eyebrow up at Kurt. Kurt just smiled and squeezed a palm full into his hand. Kurt kept his eye contact with Dave as he lowered his hands to the monstrous, throbbing cock jutting out from between Dave's legs.

Kurt was about to begin massaging it onto Dave's manhood, when Dave grabbed one of Kurt's wrists. "You know I have absolutely _no clue_ what I'm doing, right?"

Kurt allowed himself a short chuckle at Dave's nervous insecurity. "I know it was never covered on Sesame Street, or anything, but the dick goes up the butt. Not that hard of a concept, Mr. I-got-placed-into-advanced-human-biology-my-freshman-year."

Dave's eyes darted between Kurt's trusting face and his own penis. "I don't want to hurt you. Isn't there like, a lot of prep work and stuff?"

Kurt leaned down and kissed Dave reassuringly. "It's okay. I've done this before. It's not like I'm a virgin or anything." _As much as I would have loved my first time to be with you_. Kurt didn't say the last part out loud. He didn't need to remind Dave of their mutual stupidity just before their freshman year of college.

"Yeah, but…I mean. I'd like to have some idea of what to do once we actually…." Dave's voice trailed off and Kurt could see the trapped animal look in his eyes. Dave was a few moments away from a full-on panic attack.

Kurt sat back and looked at Dave. _Oh, shit_. "I want our first time to be amazing, Dave. What can I do so or say so that you won't be so freaked out?"

Dave thought about it for a minute. He had been fantasizing about being with Kurt for…_ever_, it felt like. But the reality of it was, he was a big boy and Kurt was just so, damn…_daint_y. He was suddenly remembering trying to make blown egg decorations when he was little: trying so hard to make the two teeny holes on either side of a raw egg with a tack so that he could blow out the inside and paint it. Every single one had shattered; Dave just was _not_ built to do anything that required delicacy. "You go first." Kurt narrowed his eyes questioningly at Dave. "You do me, so I know…_how. _

Kurt was taken aback by that. Never, in any of his relationships, had Kurt been the top…unless he was riding his boyfriend's lap, but even then, he was still, in essence, the "bottom." Kurt had never even desired to be the top; he doubted the idea had ever crossed his mind. But now that the idea was in his head, his penis just _would not_ let him drop the notion. It was practically screaming at him, _Please? Pretty please? PLEASE?_ Kurt steadied his breathing, "Uh…yeah, okay." Dave seemed to instantly relax. He smiled at Kurt and turned over onto all fours. Kurt stroked one of Dave's presented ass cheeks. "Are you sure you want to do it like this?"

Dave looked back at Kurt over his shoulder, "Yeah, sure." He didn't say it nervously at all, just casually, as though Kurt had asked if he wanted him to drive for a change. Kurt poured some more of the jelly over Dave's hole. Dave shuddered a bit at the sudden strange sensation. "No condom?"

Kurt shook his head, but Dave couldn't see that. "What's the point? I'm clean; you're clean. I don't think either of us is getting knocked up anytime soon." Kurt could hear Dave let out a snort of laughter and used Dave's relaxed state to slip the tip of his index finger just past the ring of muscles at Dave's anus. "Just stay relaxed, Dave. The more relaxed you are, the easier it'll be." David closed his eyes and began focusing on his breathing; he had learned a lot about forcing himself to relax over the years. Being a gay athlete with an anger-management problem was a bad combination. He had gotten into his fair share of fights on and off the ice when it came to ignorant assholes making comments. There would have been significantly more fights if he hadn't learned to center himself.

Dave took in a slow steady breath as he felt Kurt's finger sliding around inside him. The finger slid out from inside him and he could then feel two probing at his entrance. It wasn't nearly as painful as he had expected it to be, but then again, Kurt had slender fingers. _Pianist fingers…I have pianist fingers in me and in a few minutes I'll have a penis in me._ Dave stifled a laugh and then sucked in sharply as the two fingers began scissoring. Kurt kept his fingers inside Dave as he leaned over the side of the bed again, grabbing something else out of the drawer. "What's that?"

Kurt held up the thin, clear dildo for Dave's inspection. "This is Bob. He's the only thing that has kept me from fucking _raping_ you in the past two years. I _do_ have needs, you know?"

Dave raised his eyebrows, with one arched dramatically more so than the other. "Bob?"

Kurt shrugged. "Bob's a good name for _any_ inanimate object. I dunno, it just works." Kurt placed bob beside his knee on the bed and poured still more jelly over Dave's entrance. Putting the tube of jelly back down he picked up Bob and positioned it parallel to his fingers. As soon as he slid his fingers out he replaced them with the sex toy, sliding it in slowly and stopping anytime Dave's breathing sounded erratic. When it was all the way in, Kurt left it there for a moment, letting Dave get used to the feeling of having it in him. Kurt slowly began sliding it in and out of David, picking up his pace slightly with each in-stroke. When Dave began pushing back against Kurt's thrusts, Kurt decided it was time to (finally) deflower his man. He slipped Bob effortlessly out of the now loosened David and began pumping himself to maximum hardness.

There was more than enough lubricant inside and around Dave's ass for Kurt to feel comfortable just stationing himself at the opening, dry. With one hand on his cock, and one hand on Dave's hip, Kurt leaned forward and kissed the small of his back. "This is it, babe. I'm going in for the kill."

"If that's the case, I promise you I will die one happy sonofabitch." Kurt pushed himself against Dave and began nudging his way inside, stopping every little bit to let Dave adjust. Dave was being an amazing sport about it; it wasn't long before Kurt was balls' deep and Dave hadn't even flinched. Kurt stayed fully sheathed in David for a little bit, allowing himself to savor the impossible closeness. He ran his hands down Dave's sides and rested his chest atop Dave's back. He simply listened to Dave's breathing a moment before kissing him between his shoulder blades and sitting back up.

Kurt began gliding out of Dave's ass and was about to be fully out before he pushed himself back in. Dave sucked in his breath but it wasn't a pained sound, at all. Kurt took that as encouragement to speed things up a bit. Kurt kept his hands firmly gripped on Dave's hips as he pulled in and out, using them for leverage. Kurt was slowly losing control of himself, though nowhere near close to climaxing; it was just such a new and different sensation to be bucking into someone rather than getting his brains fucked out, that he was letting his body completely take over as his brain slowly shut down, stuck on a constant repeat of _oh god, oh fuck, oh god, oh fuckin' god_, but eventually he lost even that to just animalistic moans, squeaks, and grunts.

On the other end of the scenario, Dave was savoring every single movement Kurt made inside him. Several times he felt the strangest sensation inside that kind of frightened him. The first time he wasn't entirely sure he liked it, it was just such a powerful feeling, he wasn't certain what to make of it. Pretty soon he realized he desperately liked it and didn't like _not_ having that strange, beyond description taction. Dave pushed back against Kurt, trying to get that jolt again and whimpered as Kurt pulled all the way out and unceremoniously thrust back into him. Kurt's fingernails were digging into Dave's hips while Dave had the sheets bunched up in his fists. He arched his back to get more close, more touch, more Kurt, more everything. All he wanted was more and Kurt was all too happy to provide.

Dave could ride this rollercoaster forever, but all good things must come to an end. He could feel Kurt's thrusts slowing down and instead Kurt was just _pushing_ into him. Then Kurt stopped thrusting altogether and a moment later Dave could feel a heat spreading throughout him, both literally and figuratively. Kurt pulled all the way out and collapsed on the bed next to David. Dave moved to hover over Kurt and began kissing him and touching him all over, his hands completely restless. Kurt trailed a single hand down Dave's chest and stomach and then to his crotch. "You're still hard, I'm sorry." Kurt sounded truly penitent and Dave's brain couldn't for the life of him figure out why Kurt would be sorry for all the awesomeness that just occurred. Kurt placed both palms against Dave's pecks and pushed him into a sitting position. Kurt slid out from beneath him and bent down, resting his head in Dave's lap before taking Dave's aching erection into his mouth. It only took about a minute of talented tongue work before Dave was grunting like a pig. A few moments after that his entire body tensed and he released a cross between a moan and a growl. Kurt licked Dave clean before lying back on the bed and pulling Dave with him.

xoxoxo

Dave couldn't believe how sore he was the next morning. Kurt was already up when Dave woke and was nowhere in sight. He could definitely hear him though. Even from a room over, Dave could hear his little theatre star chatting wildly on the phone with Courtney, telling her all his plans for the wedding. _That conversation is going to last a while_, Dave thought. It was best he got showered and dressed before even_ attempting _to separate Kurt from the phone. Dave shuffled groggily into the bathroom. Plugging up the drain, he turned on the faucet and let the sink fill with cold water before dunking his head in it to wake himself up. He didn't feel like falling asleep in the shower (again). When he looked back up in the mirror he stared at himself in the mirror. "Haha, you got fucked up the ass by a _dude_." He chuckled at his own stupidity. "Hell yeah, and I loved it." _How could I have ever been afraid of being gay?_

Dave ran his fingers through his hair, pushing his unruly bangs out of his eyes. He considered getting a haircut sometime soon, though he was kind of liking the two-day-old stubble he was frequently sporting, recently. Kurt didn't seem to mind his short beard and mustache either. Dave ran his hand over his eyes, getting the dripping water from his bangs out of them before he noticed something. Or rather _didn't_ notice something. He had stopped noticing it so long ago that it hadn't registered as it slowly faded over time.

His scars were gone…

**xoxoxo**

**For those of you not all too familiar with either the team or the term, 'bruin' is another ****word for a brown bear (it's also the mascot of the Bruins), so I figured it was the perfect team for everybody's favorite teddy bear. Also, Boston's uber-liberal, Massachusetts allows gay marriage, and the Bruins are my favorite NHL team. So, all-in-all, it was a perfect match for Davey-boy and Kurt. **

**I have no idea how the NHL draft works (though I'm sure by this point in the story, Dave's too old [23] for the draft); therefore, I'm employing temporary suspension of disbelief**.

**Waterlily85: I like Kurt as a top as well. He's just such a domineering little bitch, isn't he? **

**As for everyone leaving comments about my next fic…I love how you all just **_**assume**_** Kurt's gonna be the one knocked up. Here's the tentative summary I've got for it (I also have the first three chapters, but they aren't going up until I'm done with Reborn):**

_**Let Me Be Your Wings**_

**When Dave is tragically assaulted, Kurt is the only one who knows. Can he help Dave come through the darkness by being his guiding light? MPREG**

**Comfort/Friendship/Romance**

**Probably a 'T' rating**

**If you know the song that this is named after, you effin kick ass (it's on Itunes, but it's a really, horrible, shitty remake that I couldn't even sit through the excerpt of).**


	46. Box Time

**Wow…where the hell have I been? Let's just blame it on the end of grad school and on me discovering Glee KinkMeme…evil bastards have me hooked…**

**xoxoxo**

December of David's first year of pro-hockey

Kurt half ran/half skipped down the stairs of the TD Gardens arena. It was already ten minutes into the first period and Kurt had _promised_ David that he would be there. Their schedules were so erratic that any time they could spend together, they did. As Kurt hurried towards his seat he shrugged off his overcoat, attempting to extract his phone from the pocket as he did so. He could vaguely hear the announcers saying something about a penalty, but he was too busy multi-tasking to pay attention.

When Kurt had finally pulled his coat off and gotten his cell free from it, he glanced over at the rows of seats only to realize that he had by-passed his seat by two rows. Backtracking up the stairs, he found the right row and began the annoying and embarrassing task of climbing over the spectators that had bothered to get there on time. "'Scuse me…pardon…oops, sorry…" He plopped into his seat with a relieved sigh and draped his heavy winter coat over the back.

Glancing down at the ice and then back at his cell phone, he saw that he had a voicemail message from Dave's PR. There was no point in listening to it just yet, so he set his attention on the game in progress. Doing a quick scan of the Bruin's bench and then the ice, he couldn't seem to spot Dave. Finally he glanced beside the benches into the penalty box and saw Dave, his Gatorade bottle in hand.

Kurt turned to the man next to him. "Why's Karofsky in the box?" The man was too caught up in the game to glance Kurt's way as he responded with "icing." Under the man's coat, Kurt could see a typical black t-shirt with the gold Bruin "B" on it. Kurt himself was wearing one of Dave's official jerseys. Dave had worn it to practice the day before and, despite it being washed immediately afterwards, it still bore the ghost of David's scent.

As the time ran out on David's penalty, he immediately threw himself back onto the ice, pulling up quickly behind the puck-herding Maple Leaf that hadn't realized he was out of the box. Dave was about to snatch the puck away from number 23 when he made an under-led pass to a fellow Maple Leaf on his other side. Dave struggled to follow the puck, but was unable to change directions fast enough and fell behind his two opponents. "Come on you fuckin' fag! Move your fat ass!"

Kurt could feel his teeth grind. He wasn't sure which pissed him off more: his seat-neighbor using the dreaded "F" word, or him calling his fiancé "fat." He wouldn't have had to deal with stuff like this if he had opted to sit in the lounge with the other VIPs, but, as usual, Kurt had turned down the offer. He generally preferred the atmosphere in the public seats, and he didn't have to worry about the weird looks he got from other lounge-dwellers that recognized him as being Karofsky's "gay-lover," or "significant other," or "life-partner." Was it really that hard for straight people to just call him David's boyfriend? Or fiancé? But apparently, no matter where he went, he would have to deal with the ignorance.

As two of David's teammates came closer to the puck handler, David fell back even more so, retreating to the opposite end of the rink. As the puck handler attempted a pass, one of the Bruins intercepted it and shot it off to David. David did a quick pivot and slammed the puck just to the left of the goal where the team's captain was waiting. It was a flawless pass that the goaltender hadn't been expecting, so the captain made quick work of tapping it into the goal. Kurt's momentary anger at the man next to him completely faded as the spectators around him roared and the goal horn sounded. Already the announcers were gushing over David's beautiful assist and the captain's perfectly executed shot that awarded the team the second goal of the evening.

Kurt could hear "Kernkraft 400" playing over the speakers and the Bruin's fans immediately took up the "whoa-oh-oh" chant. Kurt joined in with them, loving every adrenaline-pumping moment of the mob-mentality. How could he ever have not loved sports?

Not too long afterwards, the period wound to a close and his David left the ice for the locker room. Kurt took this opportunity to pull out his phone again and listen to Ray Egleston's voice message. That is, if the crowd would quiet enough for him to hear properly. Kurt's phone was having issues picking up the 7g satellite connection from the arena, so the message was crackly and disjointed at best. But from what he could hear, Ray was saying, "Out Magazine and People-terview and photo shoo-gotta get per-Bruins manager-ask D-want to-it?" It took Kurt a few minutes to process the information through his brain, but it sounded to him like _Out Magazine_ and _People Magazine_ wanted to do a photo shoot and interview with Dave. Kurt beamed to himself…with any luck, by the end of the month his future husband would be a pin-up.

xoxoxo

David and Kurt sat in the back of David's limo as they left TD Gardens. The game had been close – too close – but the Bruins had pulled off two goals in the last four minutes of the game that gave them a single point lead. "Egleston says that _Out_ and _People _both want to do interviews and photo shoots with you. This'll be a great opportunity for you to get your name out there. He's in the process of talking to the Bruins PR and manager to find out what would be acceptable and what would be off-limits."

Dave chuckled to himself. "Heil, Hitler. Most athletes can get away with murder, or be convicted of running and sponsoring a dog-fighting ring and still get Nike endorsements. But if you're gay? Oh, hell no. Your every move is dictated… Which people?"

Kurt shrugged and petted Dave's hair. "The world is very accustomed to violence. It's still getting used to the philosophy that 'it's okay to be gay'. What do you mean 'what people?'"

"You said "people" wanted to do a photo shoot and interview with me. What people? GQ, Sports Illustrated, some girly mag?" Dave began toeing off his sneakers and winced as one shot across the inside of the limo and narrowly missed the plexiglas partition between them and the driver.

"_People_ magazine: it's a 'girly mag'. Whether you like it or not, and whether I believe it or not, you're becoming something of a sex symbol." Dave choked back a laugh. "I'm serious, Dave! Apparently I'm not the only one with horrible taste."

David smiled and snuggled in close to Kurt. "You know you lurv me."

Kurt tilted his head and brushed his lips against Dave's. "Yes, I 'lurv' you."

xoxoxo

"Holy freakin' hell it's cold in here!" Dave was in the middle of a public ice rink that had been closed off for the photo shoot. Cameras were stationed all around the inside of the rink; carpeting had been put down over any portion of the ice David wouldn't be skating on in order to make for an easier time. Finding professional photographers and lighting directors that could skate while doing their jobs would be an insurmountable task.

The photo shoot director from _People_ laughed at Dave as he helped position a camera. His back to Dave, he responded to the jock's whining, "You spend your life on the ice. Hell, you were on the ice this morning for training. You should be used to it."

David folded his arms around himself and rubbed his palms over his nipples, trying to warm them up enough to stop being so… _perky. "_Claude usually doesn't let our trainers make us work on the ice while _topless_. And I'm pretty sure the NHL wouldn't let us _play_ topless…unless it were for charity or something."

Kurt and David's PR, Ray, came down the stairs and sat in the stands not too far from David. "Stop your bitching, Davey, and skate around a bit to warm yourself up." Ray pulled out his cell phone and waved it around a moment before giving up on the elusive search for a signal.

Kurt turned to the petite and fabulous, yet surprisingly straight, man next to him. "So what were the Bruins conditions?"

Ray had the notepad opened up on his phone and was typing away rapidly. Kurt didn't think he had heard him for a moment. "They have to airbrush over his Bruins tattoo, but _not_ the bear claw tattoo. And we aren't allowed to display any Bruins merchandise, insignia or colors during the shoot. During the interview though it's acceptable."

"The bear claw has nothing to do with the Bruins. David got it as a junior because it's the symbol of bears." Kurt was about to let the matter rest, before he realized Ray probably didn't know what he meant by bear. "In the gay community, manly-men type gays are usually referred to as 'bears.'"_  
_

Ray looked over the top of his phone at Kurt. "Kind of like how they call you a 'twink?'" Kurt nodded before turning back to admire his fiancé. Dave still hadn't moved except to pull his arms tighter around his chest. A writer for _People_ was asking David questions but they were too far away and too quiet for Kurt to hear, but he was actively taking notes while David appeared to contemplate his questions. Kurt couldn't believe how lucky he and David had turned out.

xoxoxo

David sat in a hard plastic chair in front of a dirty plastic window. The plastic chair on the other side of the window was currently unoccupied, but would not remain so for long. A rail thin man, pale as paper and as hairless as it as well sat down and kept David's stare, though his was far more icy. The bright orange uniform accentuated his skin tone and made it seem almost a queasy greenish hue. "Hello, Tony. It's been awhile."

The inmate sneered at David. "Not long enough, faggot." David prided himself for not wincing. This man once had power over whether or not David lived or died. Now, he was as weak and powerless as a newborn kitten, yet far less appealing. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

David shrugged. It had just felt right to him, coming here after all this time. Something inside him told him he _needed_ this. "I wanted to see how you were doing…and… _thank_ you."

Tony let out a sarcastic laugh. "Thank _me?_ Thank me for _what_?"

David allowed himself a moment to think. He knew what he wanted to say, he just needed to word it right. "If that night had never happened…if you, and Eric, and Hayden and Cris had just left me alone...let me live my life. I doubt I would have a life." Tony rolled his eyes. "I don't know if you guys get TVs or newspaper or anything here, but a lot has happened to me since that night. If it weren't for you, if you hadn't dragged me, kicking and screaming, out of the closet, I would probably still live in it. But, because of you, in six months, I'll be marrying the man of my dreams. Kurt and I are getting married, did you know that?"

Tony was actively fidgeting in his chair, unhappy and very obviously frustrated. David was certain he was tapping his foot from the way he was jiggling, but couldn't be quite certain. "I'm a professional hockey player now, too. A Bruin. Wasn't that always _your_ dream, Tony? I'm an icon for gay liberation. Gays not only gaining equal _rights_ in the world, but equal _status_ as well. After I joined the Bruins, and the Bruins made it known that I was very openly and vocally homosexual, I started getting fan letters from all over the country, even from _other_ countries. Kids and adults coming out of the closet because a gay man had broken into the homophobic world of professional sports; one more wall crumbling down. Thanks to _you_. Hell, I've even heard rumors that _Hallmark_ or _Lifetime _or whatever wants to do a movie based on me a few years down the road. You martyred me. And guess what? Neither Kurt nor I even have our scars anymore. You did leave a mark on us, and the world, but not the one you intended to leave. So, enjoy your life Tony. I'll send you pictures from the wedding."

David stood to leave, placing the open _People_ magazine on the table in front of the window, in plain site. When Tony looked down at it, all he could see was David's smiling face and headline "The New Face of Civil Liberty."

As David walked away from Tony, he could hear behind him a loud banging on the plastic partition and Tony screaming out "Fuck you, you faggot! Burn in goddamned hell!"

David just smiled.


	47. The Temple of Marital Strife

**T-Minus three months till the wedding**

"No! Absolutely not." Kurt slammed the milk carton down on the kitchen counter.

"Kurt, this is our _wedding_: the most sacred day of our lives. I would like to have it at my family's temple." David was trying to keep his cool about the whole situation, but Kurt was just being unreasonable.

"Exactly, the most sacred day of our lives. I'm not going to let you turn it into a huge farce by forcing me to pray to your imaginary friend." Kurt was working on loading soda and juice into the fridge. Neither man had even looked at the other throughout the fight.

"It's going to be in fuckin' Hebrew. You won't even know what the rabbi's saying. _I_ won't even know what he's saying! Just pretend he's praising Dior or Gaga or something."

"It doesn't work like that! I have been waiting and planning for this day my entire life. It's bad enough the groom isn't exactly what I imagined, but I'm not going to have my wedding in a _temple_." Dave winced. Kurt had always been his true love, and while he _knew_ Kurt loved him equally as much, he was very good at making Dave feel like no more than a consolation prize, sometimes.

"I may not be the quintessential Ru Paul-gay, but you aren't the only one who has been planning their wedding since they were a kid. The only difference is, so far, _you're_ getting everything you wanted. Me? I wanted a gorgeous blonde chick with big breasts that I could have a huge family with. I wanted my lifelong best friend Azimio to be my best man. I wanted science to somehow progress far enough that my mom could actually _hear_ what the hell was going on. Looks like neither of us is getting our fairy tale wedding, _Cupcake_. So just suck it up." A dishrag hit Dave in the back of the neck. He turned around to face Kurt.

"_You_ are no more than a Neanderthal bully. I was insane to think you'd grown up at all in the past five years. If you had your way we would be dancing around a fire at our wedding while worshipping cave drawings of a wooly mammoth. Well guess what _hamhock? _It's _my_ wedding, _my_ way, or no wedding at all." Kurt turned and stalked out of the room.

Dave, just loud enough for Kurt to hear, said in a voice entirely devoid of emotion "If _I'm_ the bully, how come _you're_ the one name-calling?" Dave turned back towards the counter and continued putting the groceries away. He could hear Kurt still outside in the hall; the floor creaked every time Kurt shifted his weight. Finally, after agonizing minutes, Dave heard Kurt's footsteps recede, the front door open, and then slam shut again.

xoxoxo

Kurt was standing on the sidewalk outside their home, pacing back and forth the width of the front yard. "Gaaahhhh! Why does he always have to make _me_ out to be the bad guy? I'm not having _my_ fucking wedding in a goddamn temple."

Kurt whipped out his cellphone. He had to talk to his dad. He would understand. It was the third ring before Burt picked up. "Hey, son! How're you and the hockey legend doing?"

Kurt clenched his fists and forced his jaw to _unclench_ just enough to get a sentence out. "I am going to _kill_ him. Slowly and painfully. I am going to ram his hockey stick so far down his throat he'll never be able to sit again."

Burt chuckled nervously. "That good, huh?"

"Ugh. Dad, you don't even get it. He wants to have our wedding in a _temple_. With _rabbis_…and _PRAYING_!" Kurt was so fuming he wanted to throw something: break something. Unfortunately the only thing in arms reach was his phone.

"Doesn't Dave belong to the same temple Rachel and Finn got married in? That place was gorgeous."

"That is ENTIRELY besides the point. I m opposed to anything even remotely resembling religion and he wants my entire wedding to _revolve_ around it. He never even _goes_ to fucking temple! He just wants to pay fucking lip-service." Kurt kicked at an invisible pebble on the sidewalk while gesturing wildly with his free hand.

"How about we calm down for a bit first, Kurt. What else have you decided on for the wedding? Tell me all about it."

Kurt took a deep breath. Was his father actually interested in discussing theme and décor? As much as Kurt wanted to rant some more, how often did he get a chance to talk about these things with his dad? "I decided on cornflower blue and sea foam green for the color scheme since both colors flatter our eye colors and have serene, calming effects, although David and I will both be wearing black mandarin style tuxes with gold piping and accents in homage to the Bruins. Oh…and our _song_. I picked the most perfect song for our first dance." Kurt let out a resigned 'hurumph'. "That is…if we even _have_ a first dance. This whole temple thing is driving me so nuts I might just say "fuck it" with him."

There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment. "Isn't mandarin a duck sauce?" Kurt chuckled at his father's feigned ignorance, what person _couldn't_ know what a mandarin style tux was? Honestly. "Does Dave even know what this mandarin style tux thingy is?"

"Dave knows less than _nothing_ about fashion. He has no say in the matter. In fact, I have to dress him any time he _isn't_ going to a game or practice. He's truly incompetent."

"So…you picked the colors?" Kurt beamed and responded affirmatively. "And the tuxes?" Another proud affirmative response from Kurt. "And the first dance song? And the reception hall I'm assuming?"

Gaga! How could Kurt have forgotten that? "Oh! I have the reception hall narrowed to two locations: that gorgeous country club near your cousin Julie's place or that specialty banquet hall that they advertise on the highway. They both look stunning and I just can't decide. I might have to ask Mercedes for her input." Kurt, thoroughly calmed down now, began examining his nails.

"What has Dave had to say about any of this?"

"He hasn't really. He leaves everything to me and just keeps out of it. He's just too fixated on this damn temple business to think of anything else. He's like a toddler, you know? Just so freakin' stubborn"

"So…Mercedes essentially has more say in Dave's wedding than Dave does?"

"What? No! It's _my_ wedding, first of all. And second of all, all he cares about is the fucking Adath Israel Temple!"

"So…you're denying David the one thing he's dead-set on for the wedding? Kurt, to me it sounds like _you're_ being the toddler. I know you're against religion, but David isn't. And you forget that being Jewish isn't just a religion, it's a culture as well. If you love David, you're going to have to accept that about him."

"But…that isn't _fair_."

Kurt could hear his father let out a resigned sigh and for a hopeful moment thought he would take Kurt's side. "Famous words of a spoiled brat." Kurt's eyes went wide. "You're being one of those, what are they called? Bridezillas?"

Kurt could feel heat building in his cheeks and pressure behind his eyes. He fought back the tears as best he could. "I thought _you_ of all people would understand how I feel about this."

"Oh, believe me, Kurt. I do. But what _you_ don't understand is that a marriage is, as clichéd as this may sound, about compromise. And if you can't compromise _now_, then things are never gonna work between the two of you. Understand?" Kurt nodded and Burt continued even though he couldn't see Kurt's response. "I don't know how the two of you are going to work this out, but I really hope you do. You and Dave are good for each other. Call me later, okay? I wanna hear how things are going."

"Love you, dad."

"Love you too, Kurt."

xoxoxo

When Kurt got the courage to come back in the house, he quickly found David on the living room couch watching an afternoon Red Sox game. Hearing Kurt come in, Dave muted the TV, but didn't turn to face Kurt. "This means a lot to me, Kurt. I need either the temple or the rabbi, or…I dunno if I can do this. I practically grew up in the temple and Rabbi Remak has been a friend of my family since my dad and he were kids. I always just _assumed_ he would be the one to marry me off. If you can't deal with that, then, you obviously don't respect me enough and we'll have to call everything off and go back to being boyfriends…or not."

Kurt came up behind David and wrapped his arms around David's shoulders. "I just can't deal with the religious dogma overload." Dave made an attempt to shrug Kurt off, but Kurt held tight. "Saying that…I understand how important it is to you and that I haven't been fair cutting you out of the decision making process. I can't deal with both the temple _and_ the rabbi, so which would you prefer?"

David perked up at, for once, being asked what _he_ wanted. "Rabbi Remak. No contest." Dave turned around to face his love.

Kurt nodded. "Okay, but _**we**_ still need to figure out where the wedding is going to be held…and the reception."

David smiled. "I know it's stupid…and you'll probably veto it…but…I have an idea. It's kinda silly, but…it's totally _us_."

Kurt returned Dave's smile, warmly. "So? Share already!"

xoxoxo

A month before the scheduled date of the wedding, Kurt and Dave stood hand in hand in the center of their chosen wedding reception/venue location. "Honestly, Dave, once again, you had a _really_ good idea." Kurt elbowed Dave playfully. Dave returned the elbowing and soon, both man-boys were rolling around on the ground together.


	48. The Bridge is Crossed

_I'm getting married in the morning! Ding dong! _

_The bells are gonna chime. _

_Pull out the stopper! _

_Let's have a whopper! _

_But get me to the church on time!_

_I gotta be there in the mornin' _

_Spruced up and lookin' in me prime. _

_Girls, come and kiss me; _

_Show how you'll miss me. _

_But get me to the church on time! _

Dave tugged at the Windsor knot around his neck, trying to get it even, when he heard a slight chuckle behind him. Looking up into the dirty mirror, he saw Mercedes' reflection, standing behind him. "A few problems with that song, Hamhock. One: you're getting married in an hour, not the morning; two: if you're late, Kurt will murder you…and it won't be pretty; three: if you're asking for girls to kiss you, are you sure you want to be marrying my boo?"

Dave gave up on perfecting the tie and turned around to face Kurt's "attendant of honor." Given the mixed gender of their entourages, Kurt and Dave had opted out of the stereotypical "bride's maids," "maid-of-honor," "best man" and "groomsmen" and instead went for the more gender neutral "attendants" and "attendants of honor," though Dave still insisted on calling Courtney his "best gal." He and Kurt had fought over who would have Courtney in their entourage, but David eventually won out due to their familial ties and the fact that they had known each other longer.

Mercedes leaned in and helped David with his tie (the main reason she had come in to begin with, since apparently Kurt didn't trust David to dress himself) and gave him a light kiss on the cheek to signify that she was done. "I'm so…fucking nervous, 'Cedes." Mercedes didn't respond, instead, allowed him to elaborate on his own, when he was ready. David turned back to the mirror and ran a comb through his curls several times to get them back in order. Talking to Mercedes' reflection in the mirror, instead of directly to her, he went on, "Kurt and I have been together since…like since _dinosaurs_ walked the earth; it just feels like so long. Even when we _weren't_ together, we still _belonged_ to each other, you know?" David turned on the faucet below the mirror and ran the comb under it before running it back through his hair. "I love him, and he loves me, but Kurt friggin' _worships_ romance…and, like…a wedding is supposed to be the _single most_ romantic day of a person's life. What if I fuck it up for him?"

Mercedes put her hand on David's shoulder and tugged it lightly, forcing him to turn around and face her. "You plan on showing up?" David nodded. "You plan on saying 'I do'?" Dave nodded the affirmative, again. "Then that's romantic enough for him. He loves _you_ more than anything Dave. Just be there, be happy, and he'll be happy." David hugged Mercedes and went back to fixing his hair as she left the makeshift groom's suite.

xoxoxo

Courtney was helping Kurt with his makeup in the second groom's suite across the hall and despite never wearing makeup herself, she was doing a decent job of it. Courtney had become an entry-level engineer at the Abram's Tank Factory after college graduation and had since been promoted regularly. Both looked up at Mercedes as she came back into the room. "Is he decent?"

"Boy, you worry too much. He looks _good_." Mercedes flashed her eyebrows rapidly, adding a bit of innuendo to her otherwise innocent statement. Kurt had to refrain himself from snorting. "He's _very_ nervous though."

Kurt felt himself go cold and stiff. His eyes widened, "He isn't getting cold feet, is he?"

Courtney paused in her application of blush and looked up at Mercedes. Shaking her head, her perfectly coiffed curls bouncing enthusiastically about her face, she continued "Oh, no. He's just afraid that if this isn't the single most romantic thing you've ever heard of, you'll get mad at him."

Kurt let out a puff of breath, his whole being once again at ease. "I've overseen just about the entire planning of this wedding, aside from the actual wedding venue and reception venue." Kurt opened his hands at his sides, palms up, gesturing around himself to signify the very place they were. "It's gonna be so damned romantic, Meg Ryan herself wouldn't know what to do; laugh, cry or plagiarize it for her next movie."

That got Kurt and the girls into a heated discussion about the most romantic movies of all time and they were still arguing over whether Tom Hanks was cute or creepy in _You've Got Mail_ when Rachel came in, Carol in tow. "Oh, Kurt sweetie! You look so adorable… I mean _handsome_." Carol was practically squealing her voice had gotten so high with emotion. "Oh, but you are truly cute." She stroked her hand over Kurt's cheek fondly, trying to stave off the tears that were warming her eyes.

"I fully agree, Kurt." Rachel took both Kurt's hands in hers and gave him an almost-not-touching kiss on the cheek. "And the wisteria draping over the wedding canopy and in the reception hall is simply stunning."

"Oh I know!" Mercedes interjected. "And the black drapery over the wall in the reception hall looks positively _classy_. Can you believe we used to eat tater tots in there?"

Kurt shrugged. "It was Dave's idea. We couldn't agree on whether we would get married in a temple or not, but we eventually settled on this place. For us, it kind of _is_ sacred."

Rachel shook her head, while smiling wistfully. "Not "kind of." It definitely _is_. We may have had big dreams here, but you know what? Now a-days, all my dreams are about what life was like back here, back at McKinley. I am a strong, proud, powerful, successful woman. I'm up for state senator, and yet, I think it was far more fulfilling running for _class_ senator."

Kurt nodded. "A solo in glee club trumps a solo on Broadway any day of the week. Back then, it was fun, no pressure. Now…if I screw up, I'm not just letting myself down, I'm letting down the rest of the cast, the production company, all those paying theatre-goers."

Courtney let out a grunt that sounded suspiciously like "guh." "No kidding, if I screwed up in math class, the worst that could happen is I go from a 98 average to a 97 average. Now, if I screw up in my math, someone could _die_."

Kurt knit his brows in concern. "Okay…I think Courtney wins this round."

They all looked each other over before cracking up into hysterics. To someone looking in, it wouldn't seem like that funny of a comment, but to them, it wasn't so much a joke, but a release of everything that had been building up inside them.

xoxoxo

The seating on McKinley High's football field was arranged into three seating sections all facing the wedding canopy; the right section was comprised of David's friends and family, the left of Kurt's friends and family, and the center was for "other." The center section was half the length of the other sections to allow for cameras and electrical equipment. ESPN, _People Magazine_, _Out Magazine_, and _MSNBC_ were the only media outlets David and Kurt had allowed at their wedding, with the stipulation that their reporters and equipment personnel would be respectful of the fact that this was a _wedding_ and not intended to be any more or less than that. Given the fact that Ohio still had not legalized gay marriage, it wasn't even technically a marriage, just the wedding ceremony. They had signed all legal paperwork back in Massachusetts and were already legally married, but they still wanted the grand ceremony for themselves, their friends and their family.

As Pachelbel's _Canon in D Minor_ began to play on a lone piano, courtesy of Brad who was still with McKinley's jazz band, Kurt's attendants and Dave's attendants entered the field from their respective locker rooms where they had been changing. David and Kurt wanted their partnership to be equal on _all_ footing, so neither's entourage went first as is customary in most weddings. It was a symbolic gesture to them both that would be lost on many; neither would walk behind the other in this marriage, they would walk side by side as partners and equals for the rest of their wedded lives. The piano died down as the two men came to a stop in front of David's rabbi. David stood to the right of Rabbi Remak, Kurt to the left. Their eyes locked for a moment, before the romance threatened to turn into a staring contest. Remak nodded to the two men before addressing the assemblage. Out of the corner of Kurt's eye, he could see two signers standing in front of David's family's section.

"I have known David since he was still a gleam in his mother's eye. Kurt, I have had the pleasure of knowing since he was a senior in high school. It gives me no greater pleasure, than to take these two men, and bind them together into a single flesh before you today. When David asked me to marry him to Kurt, some of my fellow rabbis were outraged by my decision. It was one thing to condone their love for one another, a whole other matter to encourage it. But I do not feel as though I am betraying my God, nor my faith to bind these two men together. To me, they are as David and Jonathan as we are taught in the book of Samuel: "the soul of Jonathan was knit with the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul." From this day forth, the soul of Kurt shall be knit with the soul of David, for Kurt loves him as his own soul." From there, Rabbi Remak began singing a Hebrew prayer Kurt didn't recognize; it felt like it went on forever, but it was all worth it, it would always be worth it so long as David was by his side. "Now, the grooms would like to exchange their vows in the form of song."

Kurt waited for Brad to strike up the piano again before taking David's hands in his.

_Kiss me too fiercely _

_Hold me too tight_

_I need help believing_

_You're with me tonight._

_My wildest dreamings _

_Could not foresee_

_Standing beside you_

_With you wanting me._

_Just for this moment_

_As long as you're mine_

_I've lost all resistance_

_And crossed some borderline_

_And if it turns out _

_It's over too fast_

_I'll make every last moment last_

_As long as you're mine_

Dave faltered for a split second before taking up his own verse.

_Maybe I'm brainless_

_Maybe I'm wise_

_But you've got me seeing_

_Through different eyes_

_Somehow I've fallen _

_Under your spell_

_And somehow I'm feeling_

_It's up that I fell_

David pulled Kurt close to him so that his cheek was pressed to David's chest, both faced the "audience" as they sang together.

_Every moment_

_As long as you're mine_

_I'll wake up my body_

_And make up for lost time_

_Say there's no future _

_For us as a pair_

_And though I may know_

_I don't care_

_Just for this moment_

_As long as you're mine_

_Come be how you want to_

_And see how bright we shine_

_Borrow the moonlight_

_Until it is through_

_And know I'll be here _

_Holding you_

_As long as you're mine_

xoxoxo

Finn had his forth cube of cheese wedged into his cheek when he finally looked up from the buffet of finger foods. His brain instantly recognized the other wedding guest across from him, but his mouth refused to cooperate. "Dude!...Ohmygod, you're…_dude_!"

David's teammate smiled awkwardly at Finn. "Uh, yeah. Hi."

Finn held his hand up and slowly lowered and raised the fingers several times. "Hi. Wow, totally. Hi."

Rachel, having witnessed her husband's painful exchange with the hockey star came up beside him. "Please ignore my husband, I generally don't allow him in public." Rachel smiled warmly at the hockey player. "He just…doesn't know how to act around celebrities like us, you know? He seems to forget that we're still people…just, _better_."

The Bruin's left-winger looked between Finn and Rachel, his expression one of incredulity. Focusing his attention back on Finn, deciding he was the less annoying of the two, he held out his hand in greeting. Finn just looked at it confused, as though he had never witnessed a handshake before. "Would, um, you like an autograph?" Finn's eyes went wide, and he was about to accept the offer when Rachel stepped in.

"Of course he wouldn't. This is his brother's _wedding_. He wouldn't do something so crude during such a special occasion." Rachel smiled again at the athlete before steering her husband back towards the main table, his cheese cubes still safely tucked away in his cheeks.

Finn sat down next to his step-brother and brother-in-law, both of whom were currently neck-nuzzling. It was disgustingly cute how the two were with each other. It made it difficult for Finn to equate Dave, Kurt's husband, with Dave, the guy who used to scare the crap out of Kurt. Finn decided rather than hurt his brain overanalyzing it he'd blame it on aliens, or an alternate-universe switch-up type deal.

The current song, some recent release by Katy Perry, ended and the MC cut in. "Ladies and Gentleman, I'd like to ask you to now clear the dance floor as the two grooms share their first dance." Everyone in attendance began clapping enthusiastically as Kurt pulled David to his feet and they made their way to the center of the reception hall (technically McKinley's lunchroom, but the decorator Kurt had hired did such a phenomenal job that everyone could happily employ temporary suspension of disbelief). Brad once again manned the piano as Tina took up the microphone.

_Tale as old as time_

_True as it can be_

_Barely even friends_

_Then somebody bends_

_Unexpectedly._

_Just a little change_

_Small to say the least_

_Both a little scared_

_Neither one prepared_

_Beauty and the Beast._

_Ever just the same_

_Ever a surprise_

_Ever as before_

_Ever just as sure_

_As the sun will rise._

_Tale as old as time_

_Tune as old as song_

_Bittersweet and strange_

_Finding you can change_

_Learning you were wrong._

_Certain as the sun_

_Rising in the east_

_Tale as old as time_

_Song as old as rhyme_

_Beauty and the Beast._

_Tale as old as time_

_Song as old as rhyme_

_Beauty and the Beast._

Courtney leaned over Finn to get Mercedes' attention. "Did Kurt pick this song? Is he calling my cousin a beast?"

Mercedes recognized the mock-indignation in Courtney's voice. Through Kurt, the two had become good-enough friends over the years to mess with one another in a friendly manner. "Yep. But from what I hear he's a beast in _all_ the right ways." Both girls snickered at Mercedes' intended meaning as Finn, a moment later, choked on his drink, a bit slow on the uptake as usual.

As their song ended, a more upbeat pop song started and David felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning around, he saw his grandma Vivian standing behind him. "Move that handsome tush of yours, I want a dance with my favorite little faygele."

David held his hands out. "What the hell about me, grams?"

Waving David aside, Vivian took one of Kurt's hands. "You aren't little and you aren't my favorite." David feigned insult at that before going in search of a different dance partner. Kurt found Vivian's dance style endlessly amusing. It was something akin to a sock hop: not horribly inappropriate for the current song, but massively anachronistic just the same.

Carol took pity on her son-in-law and opted to dance with him. "So…where are you two going on your honeymoon?"

Dave shrugged. "We're not." Carol looked confused for a moment, before David continued. "We both spend so much time traveling, by land, by sea, by air. It's ridiculous, really. Our idea of a vacation is not going anywhere and just chillaxin'. We've rented a room at a nice hotel not too far from Lima and we're just gonna enjoy ourselves for a few days. Neither of us have much time off anyway; I've got summer training, Kurt only got two weeks off from touring. Someday when we have more time, we'll go on a real vacation, a real honeymoon. For now though, even though it's the complete _opposite_ of romantic, we're gonna spend time close to family and just take things as they come."

"I think that's terribly romantic. You guys never get to visit anymore and Kurt is a dedicated daddy's boy, and you are the worst offender of momma's boy I've ever met. You're mom tells me every time you call. You are such a good son to her."

"Yeah, my mom told me you and her were pretty good friends. I'm happy; she doesn't get out a whole lot and never meets new people. She's always been so shy and embarrassed about her deafness."

Carol shrugged. "I've been learning some sign language online; I've got finger spelling down and a lot of common words. She's helping me with grammar, though."

David stepped back and held both his hands out so that his palms were facing Carol; he then high-fived the air at face level, then at chest level: sign language for "great." In return, Carol held her hand flat so that the tips of her fingers rested on her bottom lip, then pulled her hand out and down: simple sign language for "thank you" or "thanks."

xoxoxo

As the evening wound down, Rachel, Mercedes, and Courtney excused themselves early. At the same time, Kurt noticed. Suspicious. When he didn't see them again, he thought nothing of it and he and David retreated to their hotel room.

David's tuxedo coat had ridden up some time during the limo drive to their hotel and Kurt took great pleasure in snapping the exposed elastic suspenders that were visible just above his trousers. After the forth time of this, David grabbed both of Kurt's wrists and held them at chest level. David guided Kurt, backwards down the hall towards their room, leaning down and kissing him every few feet. When they approached the door, David shifted both of Kurt's wrists to one of his own hands as he finagled with the electronic key to the door. When the door clicked open, David whirled Kurt around so that he was facing the darkened interior of their room; only it wasn't nearly as dark as it should have been. Dozens of lit candles were set out on every flat surface illuminating the room in a sultry glow. Kurt turned around and smiled up at David, "The girls?"

David smiled broadly and nodded, "The girls."

Kurt walked backwards towards the bed, giving David his best "come hither" look. David approached slowly and hit "play" on an iHome as he passed the bureau. Kurt recognized the opening strains of Andrew Lloyd Webber's classic "Point of No Return" and instantly felt his cheeks…and blood…warm.

David began shrugging out of his jacket as he began with The Phantom's lines.

_Past the point_

_O__f no return -_

_N__o backward glances:_

_O__ur games we played till now_

_Are at an end…_

Loosening his tie and tossing it to the floor, he continued stalking towards Kurt, like a wolf on the prowl.

_P__ast all thought_

_O__f "if" or "when" -_

_N__o use resisting:_

_A__bandon thought,_

_A__nd let the dream_

_Descend…_

_What raging fire_

_S__hall flood the soul? _

As David sang out the word soul, he ripped open his shirt

_What rich desire_

_U__nlocks its door?_

_W__hat sweet seduction_

_L__ies before us…?_

With that David ran his fingers down his exposed chest sensually.

_Past the point_

_O__f no return,_

_T__he final threshold -_

_W__hat warm,_

_U__nspoken secrets_

_W__ill we learn?_

_Beyond the point_

_Of no return…_

Allowing his shirt to slide down his arms, David tossed that too aside. Kurt felt a shiver run down his spine and began Christine's lyrics.

_You have brought me_

_T__o that moment_

_W__here words run dry,_

_T__o that moment_

_W__here speech_

_D__isappears_

_I__nto silence,_

_Silence…_

As Kurt sang, his eyes locked on David's, David began slipping Kurt out of his clothes.

_I have come here,_

_H__ardly knowing_

_The reason why…_

_In my mind,_

_I've already_

_I__magined our_

_B__odies entwining_

_D__efenseless and silent -_

_A__nd now I am_

_H__ere with you:_

_N__o second thoughts,_

_I've decided,_

_decided…_

With Kurt's jacket and shirt now off, David sat down on the bed and pulled Kurt into his lap, so that's Kurt's back was to David's chest.

_Past the point_

_Of no return -_

_N__o going back now:_

_O__ur passion-play_

_H__as now, at last,_

_Begun…_

_Past all thought_

_O__f right or wrong -_

_O__ne final question:_

_H__ow long should we_

_T__wo wait, before_

_We're one…__?_

Kurt looked over his shoulder at David, his arousal apparent in his heavily hooded eyes, which looked more smoky-gray than their usual blue-gray.

_When will the blood_

_B__egin to race_

_T__he sleeping bud_

_B__urst into bloom?_

_When will the flames,_

_A__t last, consume us…?_

Kurt turned away from David again, so that they were both now singing to their reflections in the mirror of the vanity over the bureau. David took Kurt's left hand with his right and vice versa so that Kurt's arms were crossed on his chest, hugging himself in David's embrace.

_Past the point_

_O__f no return_

_T__he final threshold -_

_T__he bridge_

_I__s crossed, so stand_

_And watch it burn…_

_We've passed the point_

_Of no return…_

David tilted Kurt down in his lap, so that Kurt was prone and David could look into his eyes. The heady gravel had disappeared from his voice and had been replaced by a smoothness that would put silk to shame. David finished up the song solo:

_Say you'll share with me_

_One love, one lifetime_

_Lead me, save me_

_From my solitude_

_Say you want me with you_

_Here, beside you_

_Anywhere you go _

_Let me go too,_

_My love, _

_That's all I ask of you…_

xoxoxo

I'm sorry if you were expecting sex. To me, this had to be romance, and I have a lot of issues mixing carnal desire with romance; I'm like canon!Kurt, the two don't really mix well. So in lieu of sex, I put in two of the most ridiculously sextacular songs I could think of.

There were slight lyric changes with two of the songs:

"Standing beside you" should really be "lying beside you" but I thought "lying beside you" would make the song seem about sex more than love, which made it inappropriate as a wedding vow

"My Love" is really "Christine," but Kurt's not named Christine, so that really didn't work all that well.

The songs are:

Get Me to the Church on Time – My Fair Lady

As Long as You're Mine – Wicked

Beauty and the Beast – Beauty and the Beast

Point of No Return – Phantom of the Opera

A semi-epilogue and the epilogue are all that's left and the epilogue, as I've mentioned before, was one of the first chapters I wrote, so this story should be finished shortly.

On a happy note, I'm back at work and I always work best when I have _other_ work to do, so I should be updating much more quickly now (the other story I mentioned once-upon-a-time is coming along nicely, so expect that sometime around next weekend).


	49. What's John Hurt Got To Do With It?

_A year later…_

Kurt was sitting in his rinky-dink hotel room twirling his engagement ring on his finger. It was a truly lovely ring. David had had it custom made when the Bruins first told him they wanted him. It was a simple band inset with diamonds all the way around, but they were colored diamonds that, when put together, formed a rainbow around his finger. Kurt didn't even want to think about how much it must have cost David, but then again, money had never been an issue for his family. The wedding band was just as lovely; platinum to match the band of the engagement ring, but inside it was engraved with "Once upon a time..." David's was engraved with "Happily ever after." David may not think highly of himself in the romance department, but he certainly surprised Kurt (pleasantly) every now and them.

The small-screen hotel television was turned on, tuned in to a late-night cable talk show. Even after the past few years, America still was in shock over the famous "out-of-the-closet" pro-athlete and David was regularly invited to do interviews in various mediums.

_So how did your team react to having an openly homosexual player on the team?_

_Well…it's just like the rest of society; you're gonna have those that are affronted by gays, those that don't care, and those that are like "good for you." More than a few, on and off my team, made it clear that they thought I was a publicity stunt. Honestly, I probably couldn't disagree with them, but I'm pretty sure I've proven myself. We all get along well now._

Kurt knew that wasn't _exactly_ true. There were still a few that gave him trouble on his own team, and there were players on other teams that went out of their way to hurt him during games. But David wasn't going to call them out on it on national television.

_What about your managers and captains? How do they feel about having a gay-rights icon stealing the show? You're the most publicized member of the Bruins…probably of the NHL._

_Am I? Yeah, I guess. Ummm…there's a bit in my contract about what I can and cannot do, nothing too bad, but I __**am**__ a representative of the Boston Bruins and need to reflect that fact. Everything I say and do reflects back on the team, and they did lose a portion of their fan base for signing me. But at the same time, a bunch of people started rooting for the Bruins __**because**__ they signed me. From what I've heard hockey viewership even went up because of all the publicity my signing got. I'm not sure if that's true or not, but it sure is humbling!_

_How's your husband feel about you being a gay idol?_

_Hehe…I'm not sure. He's always been __**my**__ idol, so…you know, I've never really thought about it._

_You two have been together since high school, was it love at first sight?_

_Whose sight? Haha. Ummm…no, definitely no. I'm working with a ghost-writer and the Anti-Defamation League right now on a book that will talk about my dreaded high-school years. I was a horrible bully. And a complete closet case. I was so homophobic I would cause some of my worst gay-bashers to blush. Tragedy changed all that…but it shouldn't have come to that. So we're writing this book hoping that it will help prevent someone out there from becoming what I was. If I can change one person, it'll all be worth it._

_You've changed a lot of people, I'm sure of it. So, high school, college, marriage…you and your husband have been together, what? Six years now?_

_About…yeah. God he'll kill me. I'm sure he can tell you how many __**days**__ we've been together._

Kurt chuckled at that. It was true.

_Any talk of starting a family between the two of you?_

Kurt turned beet red. David did as well. The subject _had_ come up…though it had been complicated and messy.

_Next question?_

Kurt couldn't help but noticed Dave's voice cracked slightly.

_Touchy subject I take it?__ You want, he doesn't or vice versa?_

_Ummm…We __**both**__ want kids, it's just….there's a lot more for us to consider, I mean, it's different for gays-_

_-Obviously…_

_Haha, obviously. And then we both have our careers and travel a lot. We have a cat that shares custody between us and a neighbor, we're gone so often. I'm not sure that would really be fair to a kid, you know?_

_True, true._

From there, the conversation went towards details about the book. Taking care of a child was _not_ the issue that had prevented David and Kurt from starting a family. They had thought through all of that. Kurt had been offered several different gigs that wouldn't involve traveling after _MSNBC_ had put videos up of Kurt singing at their wedding. Kurt had even been offered the chance to understudy for Fiyero on Broadway. It would be difficult, but neither he, nor David had issues with commuting. They could be super-commuters: move to Old Saybrook, Connecticut and use the Amtrak to commute to Boston and New York. That was only if Kurt _wanted_ to be on Broadway, however. He would probably be much more content in a smaller theatre, and Boston had plenty to select from. No, their issues with starting a family were significantly different.

xoxoxo

Several months later…

Kurt had kicked his father out of the kitchen half an hour earlier. Burt Hummel somehow had it stuck in his head that on Thanksgiving it was the "man of the house's" job to oversee the turkey. "Not if you can't cook," Kurt had replied. He and Courtney had taken over the job of preparing the food. Leroy, Hiram, Carol, Paul, Rachel, and Joan kept popping in to offer help, but Rachel's cooking was as good as her ability to fashionably dress herself, and Kurt insisted the older generation enjoy themselves and relax. They had spent their glory years taking care of children who barely appreciated anything they did; it was their turn to be taken care of.

Courtney was adding the spices to the mashed potatoes and Kurt took care of the cranberry sauce (homemade, not from a can, _thankyouverymuch_!). "So what was that all about in his interview?"

"What was what all about?"

Courtney shrugged, "The whole deal with kids. I _know_ Davey. He would give up hockey in a second and work at Walmart if it meant he got kids."

Kurt swallowed heavily and pushed the cranberry sauce aside. "We've talked about it…and argued about it. We both want it. But, there's some big things we can't agree on."

"Religion?"

Kurt scoffed at that. "God, no. I don't mind if he takes the kids to temple, so long as he let's them explore _other_ ideas as well. It's just…we can't decide on _how_ to have kids."

"Too bad male pregnancy only exists in the twisted minds of fourteen year old girls and hentai artists." Kurt raised an eyebrow at Courtney, not sure if he wanted to comment or not. He decided on _not_. "So what's the issue? There's less and less of a barrier to gays adopting."

Kurt shook his head. "I'm not sure how I feel about adoption. I want kids. _My_ kids. I don't think I could love someone else's kids the same."

Courtney stirred minced garlic into the mashed potatoes thoughtfully. "Have you considered the Rachel Berry method?"

"And therein lies the argument. I'm not up for adoption, and David is convinced that the Rachel Berry method is what screwed her up so good." Kurt's voice dropped at the last part so no one outside the room could overhear. "Leroy and Hiram _barely_ knew Shelby. You can't get a good feel for someone's personality so quickly, you know? David feels like if we did that method, we'd have to find someone we know and like and trust. And all of our friends are either busy with their own families or getting ready to start their own families." As though on cue, Kurt could hear little Starr Berry crying from his crib in the guest room.

Courtney moved on to mixing gravy while Kurt continued with the cranberry sauce. Eventually he moved on to pearl onions and the conversation gave way to the families that their friends were building. Mercedes had broken the news only weeks ago that her and Anthony (Kurt _knew_ he had been a perfect match for her!) were expecting their first and as such were planning a marriage that should coincide to his/her six-month birthday. They had no issues with having a baby out of wedlock; it didn't affect their love for the child, so why should it matter? And they figured by six months little "it" should be able to sit reasonably quiet for a short wedding ceremony.

"I could be your John Hurt."

Kurt furrowed his brow. "Who the hell is John Hurt?"

Courtney leveled an amused/perplexed look at Kurt. "David never made you watch _Alien_ with him?"

Kurt shuddered. "God no! I made the mistake of watching _Predator 2_ and now I refuse to watch _either_ or those horrific franchises."

"Our dads were kinda…_s__queamish _about 'the talk.'"

Kurt found it amusing the Courtney felt the need to actually insert the air quotes, rather than letting her tone insinuate them. "My dad was the _same_ way."

"So when sex ed. came up, our dads basically said 'watch _Aliens_'"

Kurt licked the spoon while he tried accessing what minute knowledge he had about _Aliens_ in the back of his brain. "That's the one where the alien explodes from the guy's chest, right?"

"Yep. That's John Hurt."

"God, no wonder David was so afraid of sex for so long…wait, John Hurt? Do you mean that you want to…?"

Courtney smiled and nodded. "I want to have kids someday. Don't necessarily want to _raise_ them, but the idea that I've _created life_. That knowledge would be incredible. And I mean, we couldn't use David's DNA for obvious reasons, so the kid would definitely be yours, but my DNA is close enough to Dave's that, you know, it would be like it really were the two of yours." Courtney got an airy look on her face and stared off into nothingness.

"Hold on a second." Kurt went to the doorway and looked out into the living room. Finn was showing David how to lull Starr. "Davey, come here a second?"

David handed Starr back to Finn before coming to Kurt's beckoning. "S'up?"

"Courtney, tell David what you just told me."

Courtney smiled broadly at them both and clasped her hands together. "I want to be your John Hurt."

David looked as confused as Kurt had felt initially, but his eyes widened after a moment and realization set in. "You mean…you want…really?"

"I'm a corporate bitch. I'll never have time to start my _own_ family, but I can always live vicariously through _yours_." David couldn't find the words; there _were_ no words. Instead, he pulled Courtney into a strangle-hold hug and started crying softly.

xoxoxo

Two years later…

Kurt woke up to an empty bed. It wasn't cold, so David couldn't have gotten up too long ago. And it was still dark out. Kurt pulled the comforter off and slid around so that his legs were over the side of the bed. Touching down on the hardwood floors, Kurt padded silently down the hall. He didn't even have to open his eyes really to "see" where he was going. The past few months he had gotten very accustomed to coming into this room in the dead of night…usually several times a night.

David was leaning over the side of the crib, watching their little Kitty sleep. Just barely, Kurt's still-sleeping ears could make out very soft singing coming from David. He strained to identify the song, but recognized it just in time for the chorus:

_I'm gonna watch you shine_

_Gonna watch you grow_

_Gonna paint a sign_

_So you'll always know_

_As long as one and one is two_

_There could never be a father_

_Who loved his daughter _

_More than I love you_

Kurt wrapped his arms around David's shoulders and smiled fondly at the two greatest loves of his life.

xoxoxo

**The song is Father and Daughter by Paul Simon**

**Kitty is short for Katherine (which if you remember I made Kurt's bio-mom's name way back when) **

**Hope I didn't offend anyone with the mpreg comment. I'm a die-hard mpreg fan and it's an inside joke to myself.**

**Before this was ever written down it was going to be an mpreg, but I created such a following with it, I didn't feel right continuing it down that path. Kurt was going to have a new surgery that would allow him to conceive (without David's knowledge), David would refuse to "sex-him-up" because he'd be worried about Kurt getting hurt/sick during the pregnancy. Eventually Kurt does get pregnant, but loses the baby and becomes over-emotionally attached to the ashes. It was going to be ridiculously angsty. It probably would have added another fifteen chapters to this. But back when I wrote the chapter with Kurt, Courtney and David ice-skating and Courtney mentioning that babies bounce and Kurt telling her to stay the hell away from his future children, my brain-light flashed on and went…"OH! Courtney needs to be the momma!" which brings us to where we are today.**


	50. Don't Stop

Dave retired from the NHL at the age of 33. He wasn't forced from the game due to injury or illness, it just…seemed right. Joining the NHL had been his dream, but he had other dreams as well and it was time to see them through to fruition.

Kurt remained active in live theatre for the next few years until movies and television started picking him up. By their mid-thirties, they returned home to Lima. Kurt's acting gigs were infrequent so he didn't suffer much of the travel stress his twenties had been notorious for.

Both men began fulfilling fantasies they had had as teenagers. Kurt threw himself body and soul into youth theatre. Directing was stressful, but Kurt thrived on that stress. The kids were all as in love with the limelight as he had been. Kurt convinced himself that every one of them would be on Broadway some day.

He had auditioned for a fairly regular gig on a television show over the summer and was thrilled to learn he had gotten the part. It was an interesting premise; a high school French teacher, facing difficult struggles in his personal life, decides to try and revive the school's drama club…or some such thing. It was sappy and cutesy and the creator didn't think it would last more than a season, but Kurt had high hopes.

David made good on his degree in physical therapy, though he had had to redo some schooling before he was prepared to enter the field. He passionately loved it and it was made so much better by being unsoiled by a weekly paycheck. Dave volunteered during the week at the same equine therapy ranch that had helped him so much during his final years at McKinley.

Aside from that, several nights a week, Dave worked as the hockey coach at WMHS. The team was horrible. Dave knew it; they knew it; yet still, they loved it. They played for the game, not the glory. When he had approached Principal Sylvester for the position, she had asked him if he wanted to captain the Titanic as well.

He had been with the job for years now and loved it as much now as he had that first glorious season.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the McKinley campus, a middle aged, slightly graying William Schuester entered his choir room. A hush gradually fell over his charges as they awaited their assignment for the week. Will didn't have an assignment for them. Glee's new co-captain had approached him earlier with an idea he hadn't wanted to pass up. He gestured to her, "Kitty?"

A stunning freshman girl with a round, cherubic face, chocolate eyes and mocha curls stood up and faced her fellow gleeks. "I've been doing some research into current music trends, and pre-millennial rock is making a staggering resurgence. I was thinking we could break into five groups of five and each group could select an iconic rock song from the first five decades of rock."

The glee club's approval was immediately evident from the excited whispering and comments. Will could tell who was fleshing out their groups and who was trying to come up with the perfect song. New Directions had been doing a lot of contemporary lately, so a chance to perform some retro music was a nice change to them.

Up in the seats, Rodney Jones was smiling and nodding at Christina Abrams. She leaned over and he whispered something in her ear. The ditzy girl smiled and clapped like a little child. Rodney loved making Chrissy laugh. Will was happy that after a year of hemming and hawing the two were finally dating.

He looked around the room and assessed every face seated before him. Rodney _Jones_, a well built, deeply religious, African American, junior football player. Christina _Abrams_, a doe-eyed, gentle spirited, sophomore Cheerio. Daniel _Puckerman_, a senior boy, this one with a temper problem and a fierce loyalty to his friends. Star _Hudson_, a junior boy who served as the second co-captain of New Directions and captained the Lacrosse team. Leah _Cohen-Chang_, a sophomore Asian girl with a spunky attitude and incredible rhythm. And of course, Katherine "Kitty" Karofsky. Schuster's lip curled into a small private smile. It was too bad Andrea Evans and K.C. Lopez had graduated already or it would have been perfect.

xoxoxoxo

Kitty, Rodney, Chrissy, Star, and Leah were relaxing on the floor in Kitty's bedroom. Chrissy had herself draped across Rodney's lap was looking through the music on her phone. "I have everything _but_ the 80's."

Rodney, one arm wrapped around Chrissy, one hand wrapped around his phone was flipping through his music as well. "I don't think our problem will be too _few_ choices. We've got way too _many_ choices."

Star nudged Kitty's foot with his own. "Ask your dads. They were probably alive back then and know what was uber-cool."

"My dads were _totally_ not alive during the eighties, Hudson. They're the same age as _your_ parents."

They hung out the rest of the evening just messing around and goofing off, but after everyone had gone home and Kitty talked to one of her dads, she was positive she had found the perfect song for the 80's.

xoxoxo

Friday rolled around and everyone from glee was dressed as the band they would be performing as. The fifties were, predictably, dressed as Elvis and regaled the rest of the teams with a swinging rendition of "Jailhouse Rock." The sixties, with their button down peacoats performed an admirable version of "I Want to Hold Your Hand" by the Beatles. The seventies, in a complete mish-mash of fashion, paid homage to _The Who_ with "Who Are You?" The 90's, looking like they had gotten their clothes from a dumpster behind K-Mart did _Nirvana's_ "Heart Shaped Box."

Kitty was impressed with the other teams and their selection, but as her team took the stage and the soothing harmonies began, she was positive they were taking the cake…

Star stepped forward from the others to begin the vocals, as the rest of their team performed the background harmonies.

_Just a small town girl_, _living in a lonely world_

_She took the midnight train, going anywhere_…


End file.
